HR 3a Chronicles of High Reaches
by slytherinsal
Summary: period 3 in my AU following T'lana and friends at High Reaches; filling in the gaps. A bit of a soap opera, but I need to know what's going on between stuff, and I may as well share...from time 10-30-2520 to 9-03-2521 rated for character death...
1. Chapter 1

10-30-2520 to 9-03-2521

CHAPTER 1

The scream rang into T'lana's mind as the bellow of the stricken dragon assailed her ears.

"_Mirrith – help Sh'len!"_ Tath's scream cut into her brain as well as Mirrith's. Mirrith needed no urging; she lifted effortlessly out of the Queens' Wing on powerful wing beats stronger than many a larger queen, her wings strengthened by the great amount of Straight flight she had practised. She manoeuvred into place to slow the descent of the plummeting, tumbling, Thread-stricken bronze dragon and support him back _between_ to High Reaches Weyr. There were plenty of willing young dragons to help Mirrith ease Tath to the floor of the Bowl, screaming from the pain of wings tattered to shreds and flanks deeply scored. Sh'len sagged in his fighting straps; and Calla and her helpers raced to unstrap him as R'gar and T'ral, Sh'len's brother ran forward with numbweed to help Tath.

"_It is too late"_ said Mirrith in bewildered grief. _"Tath will not stay."_

The dragon shuddered; Talana felt the so tenuous desire to reach the blessed numbness of _Between _to freeze the pain; and with a final scream the mortally wounded bronze made the shift and disappeared. Mirrith raised her head in a keen of anguish and loss, joined by the rest of the reserve and non-combatant dragons. The eerie sound and the horror at the loss brought tears to T'lana's eyes.

"We must go back, Mirrith" she said urgently. "Fall is heavy – we will be needed."

"_Yes. It must not happen to anyone else! They will be distracted"_ Mirrith agreed unhappily. She sprang into the air and they rejoined the Queens' wing, fighting Thread in the automatic way of the deeply shocked. Mirrith was answering questions rapidly.

"_Tath went – his rider lives – he is badly hurt; Calla was dubious. To your left, Tamalenth – we must fight Thread!"_

The little queen was upset that she had been unable to save her friend – for Tath was one of her favourite bronzes. She was desperate to avoid more hurt to her friends; and she knew Thread needed all their concentration.

T'lana wept silently for Sh'len's loss as she fired the flamethrower again and again at the gruesome organism, as though by aggression she could somehow bring Tath back. It was a subdued group that returned; and Mirrith flew straight to Laranth for mutual comfort. T'lan went to the arms of her beloved R'gar.

"How could it be Tath?" she asked futilely. "He was so gentle, so practical: so – so SENSIBLE!"

R'gar held her, tears in his own eyes.

"We have not lost anyone to Thread since the year of Mishaps, the year before you came." He said, his voice raw. "Sh'len – Shirallen – is badly injured and he is of course in deep shock. It would perhaps be better if he died of his injuries."

oOoOo

Depression lay on the Weyr like a black cloud. The loss of any dragon was a tragedy; a young bronze even more so. T'bor held an enquiry and established that sheer blind mischance had been to blame; for such situations always led to an outbreak of the 'if only' disease. T'bor had no desire to lose the wits of any of his riders through fruitless and uncalled for guilt. Deepest hit by this was T'ral, as trainee Weyrhealer, and assigned to R'gar that day. He blamed himself doubly – for not saving Tath, and for not being in the air with his brother in the first place. R'gar had to speak to him sharply, reminding him of T'bor's words about chance, pointing out that no one could have made a difference in the air or on the ground.

"Or are you going to feel always that T'lan and I could have done more?" asked R'gar. "I'd rather know if you blame us; and we'd realise why." T'ral shook his head.

"I know I'm being foolish R'gar – but knowing doesn't stop you feeling, does it?"

R'gar put an arm around the young man.

"No, son, it doesn't. And what will make it worse is that dragonless men often go through a period of hating those who still have dragons – and being angry that it is they not another who has lost his companion. You will have to be strong, T'ral, for yourself, for Firath, for Shirallen and for your parents." T'ral nodded. He respected R'gar more than anyone in the weyr; and if truth be told, was fonder of the crusty weyrlingmaster than of his own father. But he resolved to be there for his parents. T'llen and Shiralla.

oOoOo

The clutchmates of Shirallen were also deeply affected. Death happened to the very old or the very young; weyrlings who disregarded drills. Sh'len was a hugely popular wingleader, known if anything for his caution; and Tath's inclination had always been to seriousness bordering on the pomposity of his sire, Orth. L'rilly was inconsolable; like Mirrith, Tamalenth had considered Tath as one of her favourite bronzes, but unlike Mirrith, Tamalenth had permitted him to fly her last time she had risen. The general air of gloom was dangerous, destroying morale. T'bor called a meeting with L'gani, T'kil, R'gar and Pilgra. T'lana attended with R'gar; and T'bor did not protest, for he valued her practical good sense and innovative approach to problems.

"We must get our people – and ourselves – focused again" said T'bor. "Sh'len – or rather, Shirallen – needs all the help we can give him of course, whether he decides to stay or leave when his wounds have healed – but the entire Weyr has been shocked."

"On the positive side" said Pilgra, "R'gar has trained the weyrlings so well we have had lost no-one since the year of Mishaps. And the two we lost to Thread that time was an accident like this."

"It was not." Contradicted R'gar. "The loss of those two boys was due to foolish over-excitement. But both boys and dragons died; and no one but I had any reason to blame themselves. We mourned; and it passed. What is eating us up this time is the thought of being dragonless ourselves; and the guilt is over being glad that it wasn't ourselves."

The others digested this, and nodded. As always, R'gar had gone directly to the unpalatable truth of the matter and exposed it to view.

"The only thing that's going to sort us out is a bloody good mating flight." Declared T'lan. There was a shocked silence at her words; but after a moment stunned, Pilgra nodded.

"One strong emotion to displace the other. You're right, T'lana. Segrith is due to rise; but I can't guarantee when. We need something as an interim measure; Thread will fall again before she is ready."

"What can distract people enough?" Asked L'gani.

"Competitions?" Suggested T'kil. T'bor winced.

"It was in the games that Lytol lost Larth." He said sharply.

"Most of the people of an age to remember that don't, because they're Oldtimers." Said T'lana bluntly. "It's you, sir, R'gar, R'cal and L'gani."

"I don't remember it other than by what I was told." Said L'gani. "I hadn't Impressed then – remember I'm not weyrbred."

"Anyway, it need not be dragonback competitions." Maintained T'kil. "In fact the dragons aren't the ones needing adjusting. They'd be all right if we were – those selective memories of theirs sure are handy. I was thinking about strenuous activity of the endurance type. Worn out bodies sleep before the mind has a chance to brood."

T'bor nodded at his son, approving of the way he had thought it through.

"Does everyone agree?" He asked. There were nods all round.

"If I may make a suggestion" said T'lana "It could be made clear that fitness has dropped off; and fitness needs to return to standard in order for people to be better prepared to help their dragons. Drop stories about Jora and that sort of thing. That ought to lift people out of apathy." She gave a lopsided grin. "I've noticed" she added dryly "That enlightened self-interest is a greater inducement than any other reason."

oOoOo

T'lana spent time with L'rilly to cuddle the distraught queenrider. Apart from friendship, it was vital that a queenrider be emotionally as stable as possible to keep the other dragons efficient; and T'lana resorted to pointing this out rather brutally. L'rilly sobbed over her at this but promised to do her best. She valued T'lana's good opinion; and T'lana's tart reminder that she must remember her position not only as a weyrwoman but also of her Blood – whatever side of the blanket the youthful Lord Groghe had sired her mother – helped her to find the pride to carry on.

T'lana also spent painful hours with Shirallen. When it became plain that he was going to survive, T'lan used her gift of telepathy to stay with him so he should not be alone. She thus saw, as no one who had never lost a dragon could ever see but only imagine the depth of the void left by the ripping away of half the melded soul that was Impressed dragon and rider. The loss, too deep for words to describe, left Shirallen on the edge of madness in a despair too deep to emerge from.

T'lan knew that people could survive dragonless and even rebuild a life of sorts. Brekke had had the voice of her firelizard, and her lover's dragon, Canth, to hold on to her and be with her in the void; and being able to hear all dragons managed to far more than merely function. Lytol had immersed himself in his craft and spying on Fax at first, then had found love of a sort for the young Lord of Ruatha. He had revered his ward's choice to save a dragon life that must otherwise die Unjoined. He had survived on strength of will. T'lan did not know if Shirallen had such inner reserves of strength; but bronzes were not likely to choose the weaker minded candidates, and she was determined that he would not be alone. She was deeply fond of her friend, however irritating she may once have found his amorous overtures, so she did what she could though it wrung her heart.

oOoOo

The competitions helped somewhat; but it was a relief when Segrith rose. Talana let all her pent up emotions release themselves as she took advantage of her ability to hear all dragons. Mirrith, aware of both riders' needs, actually consented to let Laranth join the flight whilst abjuring him firmly to be sure and not catch Segrith. She and Tamalenth took themselves fishing for the duration. R'gar was grateful to the little queen for permitting him to be caught up in Laranth's desires. Shirallen had been one of his favourite pupils, though he tried hard not to have them. R'gar always felt deeply if anything happened to any of his weyrlings; and as dragonhealer too, the inability to save Tath weighed heavily on him. When he and Talana finally emerged he made sure to spend a long time fussing Mirrith's eyebrows to show his appreciation; and Talana gave her an extra special rub with oil. Mirrith positively glowed with virtue until a snide comment from Laranth about swollen heads and the width of weyr entrances caused her to nip the end of his tail.

oOoOo

It was not long after this that T'lana received a visit from Lord Holder Deckter of Nabol. The dragon stationed at Nabol after Meron's death never minded transporting the amiable ex-carter who was unfailingly polite to dragonkind and always spoke to dragon and rider both. Deckter greeted T'lana enthusiastically as though she were a kinswoman; which in all probability she was, if one cared to trace the connection.

"Sorted that matter of Derrinik!" he told her, referring to his brutal cousin who had abused his own wife and daughter and strangled his own new-born son in the mistaken belief that the babe was not his seed. "Had to execute him; couldn't have someone of that stamp wandering around holdless and stirring up trouble."

T'lana nodded approval. The state in which she had found the lady Rillys and her little girl Amrys had filled her with a smouldering anger.

"You've appointed a new Holder?" she asked.

"It's what I came about. I had a mind to appoint the Lady Rillys if she'd take it – and when she's finished wetnursing your little one."

"Felgarra is being weaned – Lanelly believes in weaning early – so there'll be no problem with that." Said T'lana. "Rillys has settled very happily into the Weyr though, and the choice will be hers entirely. If she feels it will bring too many bad memories, I'll not have you bullying her. I hope I make myself clear, Deckter my friend?"

He slapped her on the shoulder.

"I might have guessed you'd champion anyone you've taken an interest in, T'lana! No, I'll not bully her – but it is her daughter's birthright, and she should be aware of that." He added seriously. T'lana nodded.

"You're right of course. And if she did agree – she'd have to have the support of good men to replace her late husband's bully boys."

"I'd hand pick 'em."

Talana nodded solemnly and held out her hand; and they shook, as though on a deal.

Rillys was taken aback at the Lord Holder's offer; but when he explained that it was only fair to Amrys, she acquiesced.

"It will be a good ten turns before she is old enough to Hold in her own right." She said. "Do you think I can do the job?"

"I would not have made the suggestion if I did not." Said Deckter. "I have spent some time looking into how you ran things as Derrinik's wife; and the Hold was in good order so far as a wife's duties went. Good reports have been made of you by Hold personnel who have to do with its running. Most were only carrying out Derrinik's orders out of fear of him; I have executed or exiled those who willingly participated in his cruelties. Others I have moved to the main Hold where I can keep them under my eye. There should be no-one capable of giving you serious trouble." He said grimly. "but I counsel you, my cousin, to be lenient on those who had a part of tormenting you and Amrys, for it was surely in fear of Derrinik that most did so. I have been harsh; and I am sure you will know when to be stern; yet temper it with mercy. I have not dealt with every troublemaker, only the worst; for you must prove your mettle to the Hold."

Rillys nodded at the wisdom of his words; T'lana was openly admiring.

"This from the man who told Masterharper Robinton and T'bor that he had no knowledge of how to be a Lord Holder." She commented. Deckter shrugged.

"I daresay when you Impress you learn a lot about dragonet care quicker than you'd wish. It's the same when someone wishes a Holdership on you."

"Your point!" Laughed T'lana, explaining to a puzzled Rillys, "Deckter and I play for points, weyr against hold. It keeps both of us from getting too stuffy."

Deckter laughed.

"T'lana, the day you become stuffy, the Red Star will disappear up its own backside in shock!" He said.

T'lana had promised to fly Rillys and Amrys back to Rivenhill Hold, and to visit frequently. Rillys had considered leaving Amrys in the weyr with her friend Sagarra; but T'lana and Deckter had both been adamant.

"She must learn the handling of a hold bad with good." Said T'lana. "She is old enough that her absence could be considered an insult. She is capable of helping you and should be learning to do so. She's a capable child – she and Sagarra are managing the life out of me between them – and needs careful training. Maybe we could discuss the possibility of Sagarra spending some time fostered with you if the girls would like that."

Amrys clapped her hands; Sagarra and Rillys both looked dubious though T'lana's 'inner ear' told her for different reasons. She hugged Sagarra to show that she was not trying to get rid of her and added,

"After all, a possible future weyrwoman should have a more intimate knowledge of Hold life if she is weyrbred; and it would give Amrys and any other fosterlings you take insights into the weyr. As well as permitting the girls to pursue their friendship."

"That'd be GREAT, Sagarra!" cried Amrys. "And with all the riders you know visiting, why, we'd be knee-deep in dragons!"

Talana caught Rillys' eye and the two women laughed. Their respective daughters gave them the look reserved by all children for adults behaving in the unreasonable and incomprehensible way that adults have.

"Well" said Rillys "I never heard of fostering between weyr and hold, but I've been at High Reaches long enough to know that just because it's never been done is not enough to stop you!"

Talana hugged her. She had become deeply attached to the quiet, dignified woman who had offered to help her feed her infant daughter in the depths of her own bereavement.

"I shall miss you and Amrys." She said honestly. "As will the children. But I'd be no friend to stand in the way of you securing Amrys her destiny." She added, "I'll have a word with T'bor about sending you an ageing pair, or a smokeless weyrling with some maturing to do. That way you can call us quickly if you need to; and there's always the drums in the meantime."

"T'lan" said Sagarra urgently.

"What, sweeting?"

"If there might be trouble, I ought to go now to be fostered. I can call Mirrith or Laranth direct."

"You can? When you're not face to face?" T'lana asked. The little girl shrugged.

"Sure" she said casually. "I can't do it like you can – hear all of them anytime – but the dragons that like me hear me whenever I want."

T'lana considered a moment.

"We must discuss this with your father. Rillys, will you excuse us?"

"Of course, T'lana."

T'lana told R'gar what Sagarra had offered; and he asked if she were sure.

"Yes" Sagarra said. "I like Amrys; and Rillys will foster fair. And we don't want them getting overrun by someone like Fax, do we?"

T'lana stared at her, startled at how much her fosterling had grown up, and how much she had contrived to learn. R'gar caught her eye ruefully over his daughter's head.

"You once told me we keep our children cosseted in the Weyr." He reminded T'lan. "Well, sweetheart, if you've a mind for a change, we'll support your decision; and you can always holler for Laranth if you want out."

"I don't run, father."

"By the egg, nor do you!" He laughed. "Even when at times it might be wise to do so!" Sagarra was well known for her tendency to pick on – and often worst – bullies amongst new candidates. Her head lowered and charged with was at a painful height for most adolescent boys, and she knew all the craft tricks of fighting that could be wheedled out of older lads. Wheedling was a speciality of Sagarra's. R'gar added more seriously, "You will have to learn when is the time to fight – and when to run. There may well be more potent enemies away from the Weyr." Sagarra nodded, big eyed; then threw herself into his arms.

"Oh father, I am going to miss you!"

He hugged her to him and kissed her dark unruly mop of hair.

"And I you. But I am so proud that my daughter follows her sense of duty." He told her.

It seemed strange without Sagarra around; and T'lana missed having the little girl snuggle up to her. She missed her at bedtime, when Sagarra, smelling sweetly of clean little girl, still liked a story in bed; and she missed her running errands, helping with the babes and asking an endless stream of questions. She comforted herself that a year would soon pass; and the distance was short enough, even by straight flight, for easy visiting in case the herbs should fail and she fell pregnant again. Talana had no intention of wearing herself out by endless pregnancies; she had decided to have a gap of several years!

T'lana had asked Geriana to take a likeness of Sagarra as a gift for R'gar. Geriana had not intended to stay on at the Weyr after the last hatching, but there had been so much to draw, and she still felt herself to be welcome, so had delayed her departure. She was taken from time to time to check up on her llama and take it fodder, and tend to such of her garden as it had not already eaten, and she fully intended to return to her smallhold. Geriana was the only person in the weyr who was unaware that T'lana and L'rilly had brought her there to Impress; she merely thought that she was extending her contract! Many riders were in fact paying her to take sketches of their dragons, or themselves with their dragons, especially the newly Impressed who wanted to send mementoes to their parents. The dragons themselves enjoyed the phenomenon of having their likenesses reproduced small, and from what Mirrith let slip to T'lana accorded Geriana the honour of chatting to her. This further convinced T'lana that the girl was bound to Impress; that and her obvious delight in the sheer beauty of dragons. It had the purity of a childlike fascination, something which tended to attract dragons; for they would often condescend to talk to the very tiny fearless child whose wonder was a wonder of joy where the more respectful fear filled adult was ignored. As Mirrith said,

"_Reverence to dragons is all very well but it's not as nice as being loved."_

R'cal was furious at first that Sagarra had been permitted to go; and his firelizards scolded at R'gar from vantage points on R'cal's head and shoulders.

"Whatever possessed you?" snarled the angry Blue rider to his son.

"I will not prevent a child of mine from doing what she perceives as her duty" snapped R'gar. "It is very proper that she should be ready to discharge the obligation of her little sister. Felgarra owes a debt of life to Rillys – Lady Rillys as I should style her – and Sagarra also bears friendship to her daughter. Would you have stopped me from standing by my milk-mother and M'gol?"

R'cal scowled.

"No of course not. But she's so young – so vulnerable!"

"She's six days short of the age I was when you took me to Telgar Weyr and dumped me there to stay the night alone to stop me plaguing you with questions you couldn't answer about empty weyrs."

R'cal looked ashamed.

"I had no right to do that" he muttered. "But shards! I was so proud of the way you handled yourself!"

"And I'm proud of Sagarra." Said R'gar, gently. "Proud of her loyalty and bravery and sense of what is right. And" he added, "She will learn a lot there about non weyrfolk. All the experience she has to date is with her natural mother and meetings with Lords. Neither reflect a true picture."

R'cal grunted.

"You have a point" he conceded.

"And she can call Laranth or Mirrith or Camnath, not to mention one or two others that listen to her" R'gar said. R'cal nodded, mollified, and his firelizards settled back into more relaxed positions, their eyes losing the oranges and gaining the blues and greens of comfort.

"Well I'll be visiting her anyway" he said. "And maybe I'll be finding her a firelizard egg or two. Handy little things to have around." He stroked his three settled lizards; and they crooned at him happily.

oOoOo

Sagarra considered it all a big adventure. Of course she wanted to help Rillys too; Rillys had helped make Baby Sister strong. Baby Sister was pretty boring at the moment, but as she grew she would be a great ally in helping Sagarra to keep all the weyr boys In Order. It would of course be embarrassing if she, Sagarra, Impressed only a green, and little Felgarra had a gold queen; but there'd be plenty of turns to be sure that Baby Sister knew a decent respect for Big Sister.

The hold at Rivenhill was small, scarcely what Sagarra would call a Hold at all by comparison with Fort, Nabol or High Reaches, all of which she had visited. Rivenhill held perhaps four dozen people and claimed the allegiance of perhaps as many more from cotholds around it. The only reason that the Holder was ranking was because Rillys' late husband had been a Blood relative of Meron.

All the Hold had turned out to greet Rillys. Their demeanour varied from sullen through to genuinely pleased to see her back. Sagarra had no 'inner ear' like T'lan; but she had not spent the last four years around dragons without picking up some sensitivity. She ran her eyes over the assembly, marking out those she reckoned would be trouble.

Rillys gave a short speech in which she declared her pleasure to be returning, emphasising that she considered herself to be Warder for her daughter. She introduced her new fosterling and companion to Amrys, refraining from mentioning Sagarra's weyrbred background – Sagarra had met her eyes, and a tacit agreement had been made. The three of them had arrived on dragons whose colours were far beyond the status of such a small Hold – a Bronze and a Queen, whose rider had formally kissed Rillys on departing – and Rillys had exploited the impression this had created. She used the stunned silence to make her speech, and informed her people that, whilst the cruel excesses of Derrinik were over, she would not accept that as an excuse for slackness or idleness. She later told the little girls as they settled into their quarters,

"It is easier to slacken a tight control than to re-establish control if you have lost it."

Sagarra nodded. She could see that; her father used a similar principal in training weyrlings. But it was all so very different to the weyr where adults performed their duties to the best of their abilities because it would be a dishonour to behave any other way, not because they expected Pilgra or Keerana to shout at them. Sagarra, knowing only one example of well-run weyrlife, did not think that she was very keen on Holds.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

T'lana had scarcely settled into a Sagarra-less routine, busied by her efforts to help Shirallen adjust, or at least function, when the drums beat a peremptory summons for her from Lord Groghe in Fort Hold. She tutted to R'gar.

"I do wish Groghe would learn a little tact." She said. "Whatever is N'ton going to think about sending to another weyr than Fort?"

oOoOo

What N'ton thought – briefly, before dismissing the idea – was that maybe there was some truth in some of the rumours; but due consideration led him to the conclusion that Groghe's interest in T'lana was as avuncular as his concern for Journeyman Menolly. N'ton was a trifle put out by the Lord Holder's disregard for his own weyr; but was somewhat mollified by T'lana's courtesy call to Fort Weyr on her way to the Hold.

"What's his problem?" She asked, bluntly. N'ton shrugged.

"No idea, T'lana. I presume he requires your ability to unravel some problem since evidently just any dragonrider won't do."

"He's not overburdened with tact, is he?" Laughed T'lana, making light of it to diffuse a possible situation. "But he's quite an old sweetie really. I guess because I'm a friend of his granddaughter he looks upon me as a spare fosterling!" N'ton joined in her infectious laughter, but said,

"Beware of unpleasant tongues, T'lana. Some people have nasty minds." T'lana looked confused for a moment; then said,

"You mean there are people who think I'm a side-product of his? Surely that's not important – he's got enough. My status as queenrider is more important than any Blood any might attribute to me."

N'ton had not meant that; and he shifted his feet uncomfortably, opening his mouth and shutting it again, wondering whether to enlighten her about what he had heard. He decided to leave her in ignorance, and changed the subject.

After an exchange of pleasantries with N'ton, T'lana flew the short distance to Fort Hold Straight, and landed outside.

oOoOo

A little gold streak flung itself at Mirrith, and Merga greeted the dragon queen enthusiastically. Lord Groghe followed more sedately as the firelizard turned her attentions to T'lana, chattering away and sending happy images of pretty, pretty eggs.

" Goodness, how nice!" said T'lana as she climbed down. "Aren't you so clever to lay such pretty eggs!"

"Telling you about them, is she?" Grunted Groghe. "Well, well, come in dear girl, come in!"

Talana followed the Lord Holder inside, enjoying – as she always did – the carved and painted stonework that festooned the walls and ceiling, and surrounded the doorways and windows. Statues and paintings were displayed in niches, and every time Talana visited there were changes to what was on display. The Lady Holder performed her duties punctiliously, keeping an ever-different display of the Hold's treasures. Lord Groghe led T'lana to one of the big – hearthed reception rooms. There were pots of firelizard eggs by the fire, which had been banked up to a good heat for their convenience alone, for the day was not cold.

"Made her a sandtray" grunted Groghe. "Nice and hot by the fire. So what does she do?" He asked rhetorically. "She clutches in my clothes press in my best gather tunic. Just like a woman." Merga crooned lovingly at him and nibbled his ear. T'lana chuckled.

"She evidently wanted your attention – and to be told how clever she is!" She said. "Maybe that's the tunic you were wearing when she hatched."

Groghe looked astonished.

"Matter of fact, believe it was!" He said. "Well now, isn't that clever of her!"

Merga chirruped and warbled happily, lifting her pure descant in a rendition of one of Menolly's firelizard songs. Groghe waited for her to finish, then cleared his throat.

"Asked you here to see if you'd like an egg" he said. "Know you're fond of Merga. Thought you'd like her daughter. Got no relations of my own worthy of a queen egg – excepting maybe that granddaughter of mine. She can have the next one. Owe you a favour or two, what?" He paused, running out of words, and pushed a pot with the glint of gold in the sand into her hands. "Won't hold you up. Know you've got babies to see to. Congratulations on the last by the way." He added. Talana was overcome; and all she could do was gasp.

"Why – thank you Lord Groghe!" She stammered, and stood on tiptoe to give the old Lord a kiss on the cheek. "You are a perfect sweetie" she added, more in control of her voice. "And I wish you were my kinsman!" Groghe grunted something; but he looked pleased.

oOoOo

R'gar gave a mock groan when T'lana showed him the egg.

"What – flutterbugs in our own weyr?" He teased her. Talana stuck her tongue out at him.

"Merga's daughter is bound to be superior!" She declared loftily. "Besides, Mirrith will enjoy having a miniature queen all of her own to play with."

R'gar laughed.

"What does L'rilly think of her grandfather passing her over to give you an egg?"

"Well. Actually he relented and sent her two nice big eggs too; but he was adamant that I have a queen to help me with my logicating!" She laughed. "Queens are the most intelligent and trainable, though bronzes are pretty bright too." Struck by a thought she added, "Perhaps – when it's less intense – Shirallen could be persuaded to Impress a firelizard. The time would have to be right – because I reckon if we wait too long he'd refuse out of fear of re-opening himself up." Shirallen worried T'lana; he did nothing but sit, staring at nothing, eating and drinking what was put before him, presumably sleeping when he was led to bed; but all the time like a sleepwalker.

oOoOo

Meanwhile Sagarra and Amrys were settling in and had already contrived to find trouble. They were exploring – or rather Amrys was showing Sagarra about re-discovering her former home – when Sagarra's eye was caught by three boys mucking around by the watchwher's kennel.

"What are they up to?" She asked sharply as the wher cried out. Amrys shrugged.

"I expect they're teasing it with glows." She said as a second piteous cry rang out. Sagarra pinched her hard, her face set.

"Teasing? Where I come from, we call that sort of thing bullying and torturing. And it will stop." Declared the little girl angrily. She ran towards the boys; and Amrys, accepting the rebuke, followed. Sagarra called out,

"Hey! You! Stop that at once! Don't you know that Whers are related to dragons?"

One of the boys stopped and sneered at her.

"Who cares?" He said. "Beat it shrimp."

Sagarra put her head down and charged; and left him winded and retching as she turned her attention to a second boy. Not for nothing had she trained – and fought – with weyrlings turns older than herself. Amrys grabbed the heavy shovel used for mucking the watchwher out and laid into the third boy.

The fight was short and bloody. Teasing a caged animal or beating up little children who screamed, begged and ran away was one thing; two little demons who took no account of bloodied noses or split lips and who fought back was another! The boys fled, blubbering.

Sagarra projected her mind as she had learned to soothe the unhappy wher with calming thoughts; and moved into its kennel fearlessly. It cowered growling, its training to attack strangers, but confused by her dragon-trained contact. Sagarra reached up to rub its sensitive eyebrow ridges, and all confusion dissipated; the hideous thing was Sagarra's abject and adoring slave from that moment on.

oOoOo

Rillys exclaimed at the battered appearance of her daughter and fosterling.

"You should have seen the other three" grinned Sagarra in savage satisfaction from behind a black eye. "Rillys, will you put a stop to people teasing the watchwher? It's not right." She declared. "It's not right to hurt anything – especially not dragonkin." Rillys sighed.

"I shall make it plain. But girls! Couldn't you have come to me and not resort to fighting like hoydens and risking yourselves?"

Sagarra gave her a look reminiscent of R'gar.

"Risk is immaterial" she quoted him "If the cause is just. How could we waste time while he was hurting? I cannot obey that if it is an order, it runs against all I know."

A faint smile touched Rillys's lips. So like her parents – stubborn and honourable to a fault with the pomposity of her tender turns.

"Some fights you can't win, child." She said, gently. "Sometimes the odds are against you. You may have won somehow this time – but did it not occur to you that - three, you said – boys might be a match for two little girls?"

Sagarra looked genuinely surprised.

"No" she said "They were scarce two turns older than us and soft-looking into the bargain. No muscle. Bet they've never done a day's real work in their lives." She added scornfully.

Rillys gave up.

Rillys assembled her people and gave a general prohibition over harming any beasts and made specific reference to interfering with the watchwher. She let it be known that the two little girls had enacted physical punishment on three boys who had done so – Sagarra grinned through a rainbow coloured eye – in the hope that the humiliation would prevent the boys from spreading any highly coloured yarn of how they acquired their lumps. She pointed out one or two home truths, reminding the assembly of Fax; and wondered aloud if the watchwher at Ruatha had failed to give warning because some fool had permanently damaged his sight with glows. She also reminded them that youth had been no protection against Fax's sword; and finished by pointing out that whers were distantly related to dragons and should be accorded respect accordingly. She reiterated that she would tolerate no ill treatment of any creature in her lands and promised grimly that anyone so doing would be rewarded lash for lash. Also, any people finding themselves bullied were to come to her, for she would take such matters seriously. She finished by calling for the singing of the Duty song, both as an emphasis of fealty and to lighten the mood with a good sing.

Rillys let her eyes wander during the singing and picked out the three bruised boys with some dismay, and not a little pride. They were bigger than she had expected; but for that the lesson given them would be the more severe. She did not intend to pursue the matter any further; but a man came up to her after, dragging one of the miscreants by the ear.

"M'lady, that true like that them little'uns took on m'boy an' his mates?"

"They did not say who it was, Borvell, but only told me that they had fought and the reason." Said Rillys diplomatically. Borvell cuffed his son.

"Well then, Borman, make a fool of your da wouldja?" he growled. "I'll tan your jacket."

"Don't you feel" said Rillys "That the humiliation of being beaten up by two little girls is punishment enough?"

"Oh ay, m'lady, for teasin' the wher – but I aint tanning his jacket for that. I'm doin' it account o' him lying about who hit him, see?" he said. "Tryin' to set me against the steward an' claimin' to've done nothin'. I'll not be lied to!" He cuffed the unfortunate boy again and dragged him off, howling.

oOoOo

R'cal had taken to disappearing from time to time to exercise Camnath's wing; and one day he came back with a bundle.

"T'bor! I've firelizard eggs!" He roared cheerfully.

T'bor emerged hurriedly less concerned for the informality R'cal habitually displayed as in the substance of his words.

"Firelizard eggs?" He asked. "R'cal, you've not been risking going to Southern, have you?"

R'cal snorted.

"Do I look daft, Weyrleader?" He asked. "There's more places than Southern as breeds firelizards – and makes natural weyrs!" He added cryptically, winking and tapping the side of his nose. T'bor sighed. The crabby, but uncommunicative R'cal of old had been easier to handle. Drat T'lan! Why did she have a fetish about making people happy, T'bor grumbled unfairly to himself, choosing to ignore A'ira's share in R'cal's good humour. He asked

"Do I get to know where they come from, R'cal? Just so I can fight off anyone who might be breathing down my back about it?" R'cal grinned.

"Well, I needed to go somewhere warmer to exercise Camnath's joint-ail; and I didn't want to be all that public about it – and I remembered the Eastern Isles. You know, where they're supposed to exile people who murder dragonriders?" T'bor nodded and R'cal continued. "Well when we trained going to the drop off point as one of our weyrling exercises, I always used to wonder about the more southerly islands I could see in the distance – so we went took a look-see." He grinned. "There's a chain, T'bor, stretching all the way down to a sharding great land mass that I guess must be Southern – I didn't go close enough to check it out, I had no desire to stir up trouble, but there's loads and loads of little islands, volcanoes and dead volcanoes. And know what?" He said excitedly "Firelizards weyr in some of the volcanic cones as well as on the beaches!" He gesticulated wildly. "So we can implement young H'llon's idea!"

T'bor groaned inwardly. H'llon was inclined towards radical ideas which, whilst based on common sense of a sort, were usually totally unworkable from the point of view of the wishes of most of the Pernese people! That idea of having Lords Holder chosen on merit like craftmasters from the ranks of the ordinary people for example, not from the Blood – no-one would stand for having a social equal placed above them!

"What idea was that?" He asked cautiously. R'cal beckoned H'llon over but began to explain for him, eagerly.

"If the outlying cotholds have firelizards and aid in training them, they'd act as messengers so we'd not have to assign dragons to sweep as often – and banditry would become very difficult! Here lad, you tell him."

H'llon nodded.

"Yes, sir" he said. "And if the weyr provided firelizards, it would be another point of contact with us; they'd also be beholden to us not to the big Holders rich enough to buy them. And we could withhold eggs where people were – less pleasant, shall we say."

T'bor nodded thoughtfully. It was viable. The Lords Holder could scarcely protest if the Weyr were generous to outlying smallholds – especially with the legitimate excuse of saving dragons for fighting Thread.

"Let's be careful and judicious here." He said, running his hand backward through his hair. "Not to mention circumspect. Very well, R'cal, and yes, you can take the lad to help you look."

R'cal grunted thanks; and H'llon grinned all over his face.

oOoOo

R'cal delivered eggs to his adored granddaughter; and brought some to the Lady Rillys and her daughter.

"Brought you half a dozen spare ones m'dear" he said to Rillys "On account of how a little bribery might help you out a little." He winked. "What you call incentives."

Rillys exclaimed gratefully and gave him an affectionate hug; he was part of 'her' family at the Weyr. R'cal cleared his throat, embarrassed, and suggested taking the girls fishing. They assented joyfully; and that was the last Rillys saw of any of them all afternoon until they returned damp and happy with some –small – offerings for supper. She praised them seriously; and after eating, R'cal left them with strict instructions on the care of eggs and hatchlings. He had picked some good big eggs for the girls, though size was not necessarily an indicator; but he had reserved the queen egg for his A'ira. After all, he did have a bronze himself!

T'lan asked R'cal if he minded some eggs going to the child cot-holders, Ramina and her brothers as they were so vulnerable; and he was glad to agree.

"It's the whole idea." He said. "People who need them should have them. Far too many Nabolese as shouldn't had them off Meron; it's time to redress the balance."

oOoOo

H'llon and V'gion rode with R'cal, hunting firelizard eggs. The Blue rider had maintained good relations with the lads since the first trip they had made together; and their firelizards were on friendly terms, chittering and crooning, exchanging news. V'gion was unofficially well versed in the hunting of firelizard eggs as a result of his seacrafter upbringing.

"Of course, if any crew member found any – accidentally, you understand" he grinned "- we'd sell them and split the proceeds. Only fair – it's a matter of luck who finds these things."

R'cal was proud to show his young friends the island he had discovered with firelizard eggs, nine time zones ahead of High Reaches, three ahead of even Benden. It was a long strung out island with two cones, the northernmost conical, the more southerly elongated with a high guard wall protecting the caldera from the prevailing northwesterly winds. A landslip at the south end held a natural lake, which trickled over the brim to the sea behind.

"It's a ready made weyr!" Said H'llon in awe.

"Aye, lad – and warm! There's a warm current, I think – and there's a thick pavement of volcano rock near the other cone that's honeycombed with caves, or I'm not Camnath's rider!" declared R'cal. "There's a natural sweep of good ash-rich land between the two cones for growing crops and rich seas, a hold waiting to be held. If the Holders get sick of us at the end of this pass, there are plenty of us with secondary skills who could make a good go of it here! And" he added, "It's not so fardling cold as High Reaches."

"Where are we?" Asked V'gion, fixing reference points as he looked around..

"About twenty five to thirty hours straight flight out of Nerat and a good few hours ahead." Grinned R'cal. "Total luck I found the place. If it hadn't been necessary to get Camnath fit, I'd not have been looking."

H'llon and V'gion politely hid smiles. R'cal's attachment to A'ira was an open secret, but like R'gar he preferred not to acknowledge love openly.

oOoOo

When the party returned with more eggs, T'lana decided to try offering a couple to Shirallen.

"R'cal found eggs" she told him. "It's not the same, but do you think it would help the empty place?"

For the first time in several weeks Shirallen reacted. He jerked back his chair as he stood up; and angrily swept his hands across the pots to knock them off the table. T'lana caught them adroitly; and her accusing expression was mirrored by his.

"NO!" He said forcefully. T'lana bowed her head in acceptance of his decision.

"Dear Shirallen, know I would not deliberately cause you more pain." She said, laying a hand on his. "I could not find out if it would help without suggesting it."

Shirallen stared at her; then he sat down again and took her hand.

"Be in my head" he pleaded "But don't suggest that again. I can't bear it." She put her other arm around his shoulders and held his hand, her mind soothing his. It was inadequate; but it was all she could do.

oOoOo

Mirrith hummed loud enough one morning to awaken T'lana and tell her that the egg Groghe had given her was ready to hatch. H'llon's, V'gion's and R'cal's firelizards turned up to sing a joyful chorus, humming until it seemed that their soft little bodies would fly into pieces from the vibration! Merga put in her own appearance and chirruped smugly as the shell split. T'lana was instantly charmed by the tiny creature and as soon as the young queen was full and happily asleep on her forearm named her 'Merry' for her happy – if ravenous – disposition. Mirrith was fascinated by the little creature, and had kept her head as far in T'lana's sleeping chamber as it would go while the girl fed the hatchling. Merga had considered this a suitable perch to warble from; but she was the only firelizard Mirrith permitted to take such liberties until the hatching of Merry. The tiny queen soon learned that Mirrith's head was a safe place to sleep; and Mirrith was careful not to dislodge her by accident!

L'rilly was equally happy with the Bronze and blue firelizards she had Impressed; and Tamalenth registered amused tolerance towards Zammo and Bubbles as L'rilly named them.

"Bubbles is such a deep blue – just the colour of Bubbly pies." She explained "And Zammo – well, just look at that nose, what else could one call him?"

The shout "ZAMMO!" was the currently popular cry amongst weyrlings wearing out their breeches sliding down the gentler slopes of the Seven Spindles; and T'lana saw exactly what she meant.

oOoOo

Those who had accepted eggs from R'cal took careful note of the care and training T'lana and L'rilly gave to their lizards, for when their own eggs hatched in the next two or three weeks. Geriana - or Geri as those dragons that named her called her - had taken a pair of eggs when H'llon had suggested it to R'cal; the carpenter had seen how enviously she had watched his helping him with fetching small tools, and posing to be models. Geriana had been sketching him at work; and H'llon had provided her with a generous stock of paper in exchange for a sketch of himself hard at work mending a chair using Melth's tail as a prop; he intended to send it to his father. H'llon was immensely fond of his parents and had been sorry that they could not have been present at his Impression. R'gar had taken him to see them by way of a bit of compensation to break the news, and he wanted to keep them posted not only of his progress as a weyrling but also of his continued duties as Weyrwoodman. He missed his little sister and sent her newsy letters about the weyrchildren, in particular T'lan's and R'gar's little family.

oOoOo

Marag was fascinated by Merry as she slept and ate less; and T'lana let him help feed her. Lanelly had turned down the offer of an egg herself, claiming that having children and R'gar underfoot was bad enough, which had earned a crack of laughter from R'cal. Lanelly had however found time to sort herself out a social life in the Weyr; and T'lan had noticed her spending time with one of the Oldtimer Brown riders from the same flight as T'llen. T'lan wondered if the two intended searching for eggs themselves; but she kept her own council.

Rogan and Rofel adored Merry and crawled and toddled towards her, arms outstretched, shouting 'encouragingly'; and the little creature soon learned to tease them by disappearing _between_ the moment it seemed they would grab her. Rogan, a placid child, would sit down hard on his padded bottom, frowning intensely over this puzzle; while Rofel yelled in frustration. They were starting to speak; and T'lana had a sneaking suspicion that she'd soon be sick of the phrase,

"Wofel CAN!"


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Talana decided herself to go and meet the small band that the watchdragon reported winding a slow way up the mountainside. Her boys were having their afternoon nap and Felgarra was full and happy; so T'lana strapped on skis to negotiate the recent, heavy fall of snow and set off with a couple of stout weyrlings. She picked L'gal, Bronze Solpeth's rider and R'ben, Brown Breeth's rider, a full year older than Solpeth. They would guide the travellers through the narrow, hard to find cleft into the Weyr and help persuade the runner beasts to go near the frightening smell of dragons.

The motley band appeared to consist of three adult sized persons and seven children struggling beside or mounted on the bedraggled runner beasts. One lad was riding in a basket strapped to the side of the sturdy lead beast, driving it with reins. As T'lana got nearer she could see that two of the taller people appeared to be youths from the way they moved; and the leader swung along on crutches. He had what she first took for an orange scarf, but which she quickly realised was a set of bristly ginger whiskers. T'lana had only rarely seen face hair before and never so startling in colour. She and the youths with her braked, far enough away for the spray of snow to miss the travellers, and waited for them to come nearer. T'lana hailed the group.

"Good afternoon! If you're wanting the Weyr, you'll need guidance in – snow's covered the trail, and you're well off it!"

The bearded man swung himself ahead, adept on his crutches despite a leg missing from the knee joint.

"I'm wanting to know if what they say about High Reaches Weyr is true" he called, in a soft lilting voice, at odds with his otherwise rather rough, unkempt appearance.

"They say much about High Reaches – some of it even repeatable in front of ladies and children." Retorted T'lana, running her eyes over the tired looking children well wrapped in furs but not the healthiest, she thought. The stranger laughed, a little reluctantly, at her comment.

"They say that High Reaches takes in all – even what the Holders call 'unproductives'" his tone was wary, half-scornful. T'lana's 'inner ear' told her that he was more than half expecting to be laughed at and sent away.

"High Reaches takes anyone who is prepared to do as much as they are able to help the Weyr as they are capable of; and it that's but little, so be it. Nor do we ever turn away anyone in need. We don't take slackers who would use any excuse to avoid mucking in with the rest of us. But then, no slackers would be toiling up a mountain on the threshold of winter with a fair of sick looking kids, would they?" She added.

He looked at her with some approval.

"I'm no fardling slacker – given a chance to prove myself." He said quietly. T'lana held out a hand.

"T'lana." She said. "These are weyrlings R'ben and L'gal."

"Daire – Weyrwoman." He added the title as an afterthought.

"Some of those kids look all in. I'll get some dragons in to lift them; you'll help me keep the runners calm?" She asked "We'll obviously have to walk them in the slow way."

He gave her a searching look; then nodded.

"Hey, kids!" he said. "They want us – and they're going to send some dragons to get you lot in while Sharanis and I help the weyrwoman to haul these fardling stubborn beasts over the top. How's about that, then?"

Daire lifted the two smallest children, little girls, from the burden beasts. One was veiled heavily; the other he turned towards him, pointing to the sky and miming flight. She smiled at him.

"She's deaf." He explained to T'lana. "I'm teaching her to look at how lips make words, but it's pretty hard going."

"I wonder" said T'lana "If she can detect vibration, even if she can't hear sound – I was thinking of communication by drum measure. But we could tap on her palm at least – she'd feel it."

"That's a good idea!" interposed L'gal.

"I don't know the drum measures." Growled Daire.

"So learn." Shrugged T'lana. L'gal laughed.

"Don't mind the weyrwoman" he said. "She taught herself all the measures through being stuck in the Healer Hall for a couple of months. Most people take longer, even with instruction."

"Do they now." Said Daire, softly. L'gal winked at T'lana behind the man's back.

oOoOo

M'kel, R'gar, T'kil and Sh'rilla glided down on their respective dragons. Some of the children cried out in awe – and some fear – at the great creatures. Blue Vorth was the size most commonly seen at close quarters, and Daenilth was almost twice his length, although not yet fully mature.

"I asked Sh'rilla to come to reassure such of the older ones as might have natural suspicions." Said T'lana quietly to Daire. "As you can see she has a special saddle because she only has limited use of her legs. The man by her is her lover, our Weyrleader's son. Sh'rilla caught a disease which wiped out her parents and all but one sibling."

Daire looked shrewdly at T'lana.

"So I'm almost convinced." He said. "She's Impressed, though – and you can't un-Impress someone, right – so why was she here in the first place?"

"She and her brother were starving. What else could we do?" Asked T'lana. "We gave him the excuse that we wanted him on Search, and she might as well come too – proud little so-and so, you see. Then she Impressed and he didn't." Daire surveyed her.

"Maybe I'll concede that not all people are tunnel snakes." He said softly. "What's become of her brother?"

"Wanted apprenticeship at the Harper Hall. He's doing very well." She added proudly. Daire quirked an eyebrow and she added, "R'gar – my man – and I foster him." She indicated R'gar with a wave of the hand. Daire followed the gesture with his eyes.

"Well you're not afraid of disfigurement." He said with some satisfaction. "That may help Sharanis."

"The oldest girl with the light snow veil?"

"Yes. She started getting this mark on her face when she became a woman; and her parents wouldn't feed someone who couldn't make a good marriage."

T'lana ground her teeth audibly.

"How wicked some people are! But I suppose it's not surprising. Sagarra – R'gar's daughter – was rejected by her mother just for being the child of a dragonman. Once she had a new fancy-man that is." Her lips thinned at the anger that still burned. Daire looked at her thoughtfully and nodded.

"I think we'll do well here." He mused. "Things like that make you angry too. I think that's important."

oOoOo

The children were carefully helped onto the waiting dragons. The two little girls were first; then the boy from the basket, a little younger than Sagarra, and with no legs. A lad of much the same age and crying quietly in pain was carried effortlessly in R'gar's arms, together with a little girl with one foot missing. A boy a little older insisted on limping on his twisted foot as far as the dragons. The oldest boy, in his teens, with a horribly burned face needed guiding; and T'kil lifted a girl of some ten turns whose thin frame was racked with coughing. The teenage girl with the marked face – T'lana could see it through the veil now she knew it was there – stood placidly by the runners, helping to quiet them. In truth the poor beasts were too tired to panic, but the smell of the dragons unsettled them. As the dragons lifted off, T'lana unstrapped her skis and helped to push and shove the runners up the final slope and through the narrow gap where the tithe trains entered. Daire looked approving at her handling of the runners.

"You know the ways of runners for sure." He said.

"My stepfather breeds them." Panted T'lana. "Giddap, there!"

oOoOo

The various Weyrwomen – Gold and Green riders – mucked in to help the women of the lower caverns to bath and feed the children and check them over for frostbite and other damage. Daire watched as the children were seen to before permitting Calla to check him out; and she rubbed salve into his stump while the children gulped hot soup.

"How did you lose it?" she asked clinically. "It's been badly done."

"I was a trader. I got caught in Thread – and the only cover didn't cover all of me. I burned it out – but the burn festered. They cut off my leg at Keogh Hold. Said I'd die if they didn't." He shrugged. "My kin didn't figure I could keep up with them any more. Don't stop me riding though." He looked at the group of young women. "Say, are they all Queenriders?"

"No, some of them are Greenriders, and some are support staff – T'bor's daughter, my daughter, our headwoman Keerana and a few others." Calla added, "Hold still, son, how can I treat this if you wriggle like a firelizard in heat?" He laughed his lazy, pleasant laugh and obeyed, eyeing up the women appreciatively. Most holder women aged rapidly, and often quickly lost their figures once they left girlhood and were married off. Daire had never seen such a collection of self assured pulchritude.

H'llon bustled in after the children had been made more comfortable, having been sent for by T'lana. He glanced at Daire's leg and at the little girl, Serelis, whose foot was missing. He said,

"No problem, T'lan. I'll need some help with the leatherwork padding but there shouldn't be a problem." He smiled at Serelis. "You're about the same age as my little sister Kisra." He told her. "How did you lose your foot?"

"My father said he'd beat me if I told." She said.

"Not here, is he?" Said H'llon, laconically.

She considered this; then smiled at him.

"It was in the saw mill. I had to hold things – but it was too heavy and I fell. The saw took my foot off." She shuddered in remembered pain and horror.

H'llon's face darkened in rage.

"Sawmills should not be manned by any but senior apprentices at the least!" He exploded. "What was your father thinking of? How dare he permit you in there – never mind make you help!"

"Aye, and they were glad to be rid of her." Cut in Daire's voice. "Sure, and they didn't care WHAT purposes I might want her for – so long as the evidence left their mill."

H'llon made a sound between a snort and a growl, hardly believing that he could be hearing this.

"I'm a Journeyman Woodcrafter as well as a dragonman." He told Daire. "If you'll tell me all you know, I'll be making a formal report. This needs looking into. I always thought that Crafterfolk took care of their own – like Weyrfolk –but it seems I was wrong. This is unforgivable."

Daire stared at him thoughtfully.

"_I _think so." He said. "Well I'll maybe believe the songs about the dragonfolk from now on."

"I should hope so." Said T'lana, tartly. "You just became dragonfolk."

"Run that by me again, beautiful". He wrapped an arm around her waist; and she extricated herself promptly and with the ease of practise.

"You volunteered to come here – that makes you Weyrfolk. Whether you're riders or lower cavern folk is fairly immaterial; all are important. We all defer to T'bor and Pilgra, but otherwise we're pretty egalitarian. Of course we all grovel to Keerana, because she's in charge of food" – she grinned, hugging Keerana who play-boxed her ears –and added, "Oh, and Daire – look all you like; call me what you want; but touch at the risk of R'gar wringing your neck. After I've finished with you. Don't believe all you hear about Weyrwomen – I'm a one man girl."

Daire grinned and held up his hands in surrender.

"No offence meant."

"None taken – you've still got all your fingers left, haven't you?" she chuckled, tapping her knife.

"You think she's joking, don't you?" H'llon murmured. Daire looked startled; and H'llon shook his head at him, grinning. Daire was undismayed; there were plenty more fish in the sea. A handsome rogue like himself rarely went short of accommodating girls!

oOoOo

Shirallen actually came out of himself a little to help with the children, lending a hand to the boys.

"What's with him?" asked Daire of L'rilly, who was the nearest. "He don't seem quite right in the head."

"He lost his dragon!" She snapped at him. "He's only half a man – and if anyone wants to upset him, they can answer to me!"

"I'm sorry." Daire was genuinely contrite. "Is he your man?"

L'rilly's eyes filled with tears.

"No." she said, shortly, and fled.

"What did I say?" wondered Daire half to himself. T'lana touched him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry." She told him. "L'rilly's a bit touchy – they'd not long split up – and their dragons were very close."

He whistled.

"Seems like relationships in Weyrs get complex."

T'lana shrugged.

"They can do. Some people have more trouble with relationships than others. Now, note I'm telling you this only so you don't upset my friend. L'rilly feels guilty because they're not right for each other and she can't be a partner for him to help him through it. It's the most dreadful thing that can happen to anyone – like having your soul ripped in half, and you're continually searching for the bit that isn't there. Like you want to scratch the foot you haven't got - but it's part of your inner being that's gone."

"Jays!" he breathed.

"You lot turning up has been the best thing for him since it happened. This is the first time he's really done anything but sit." T'lana told him. "Duty pulls him. That's good. Maybe he'll be able to rebuild his shattered life."

oOoOo

Daire certainly had a lot to think about; and more when H'llon came up to him with a measuring string.

"What's that for?" He asked.

"If I'm to carve you a wooden leg to cap, that stump, I'll need to know how long it's to be – and how big the end is." Said H'llon.

"A wooden leg?"

"Sure. I don't see why you shouldn't be able to balance easier with that than with crutches – and it'll make a lot of things easier. Peeing for one."

Daire laughed.

"Who'd have thought dragonfolk could think of the earthier practicalities of life! Some folk'd say that Dragonmen are so high and mighty that they don't pee! But it's worth a try. Why are you going to so much trouble?"

H'llon looked surprised.

"You're one of us, now," he said. "Though I guess I'd do something I could for pretty well anyone. Anyway, you'd do the same for me if I'd joined your trading group, wouldn't you – same as you have for the children. You've given everything you can muster. The Weyr has extensive resources and we're supposed to make use of them." He grinned. "I was well nervous when I arrived at my first journeyman posting here – but I soon found that the Weyr functions like an overgrown family. I rather like that way of doing things."

Daire nodded thoughtfully. If High Reaches Weyr was eccentric, he liked their brand of eccentricity!

oOoOo

H'llon begged a lift from R'cal to go to the Woodcrafter Hall, but the older man shook his head.

"Oh no, lad, not for a formal visit." He said, adding as H'llon stared at him, puzzled, "It's not right that a Bronze Rider should turn up on a Blue dragon. Our little flits to the island, that's different; no-one's watching. It's between friends, and all in the family so to speak. But you've Rank due to you, especially over something like this."

"Oh!" said H'llon, taken aback. Apart from his own innate modesty, he had noticed that R'cal generally had a cheerful disregard for protocol. Many Blue riders were at least circumspect with fully trained, fighting Bronze Riders, but R'cal treated everyone the same. H'llon wondered if it was just R'cal – or whether it was because the man's son was a Bronze Rider. It was perhaps as well that High Reaches had T'bor as Weyrleader, happy to accept egalitarian ideas so long as everyone pulled their weight and took necessary orders. H'llon had heard that some Weyrleaders were jealous of their position and rather stiff necked; but he'd heard it from T'bor while he sounded off to Pilgra. But who other than T'bor would willingly accept such a rag tag and bobtail crew as Daire's fair of children? He was not so naïve as to think that either Hold or Weyr in most places would view so many cripples with anything but dismay, and would pack them off to the Healer Hall soonest with more or less help to get there. Here, T'bor might groan inwardly; but he'd accept that they could be found appropriate tasks and get him, H'llon, to help T'lan and L'gani to devise means of making their lot easier. And T'bor had already sent a drum message requesting the attendance of the Masterhealer.

oOoOo

It was L'gani who took H'llon to the Masterwoodcraft Hall; and when he explained why he was there, Master Bendarek took a dim view of the dangerous contravention of regulations – as H'llon had thought he would. He did not, however, forget to congratulate his Journeyman on his Impression. As it happened, Bendarek took a dimmer view of Serelis' father giving her to a passing stranger than his making her work in the sawmill. He said,

"Sometimes needs drive a man; and not all can afford to take an apprentice. It was reckless and irresponsible; but not a deliberate wrong as such."

He promised H'llon that the man would be recalled; and since Daire had sent a deposition, and the girl's words had been witnessed by a Bronze Rider there would be no need to question her in front of her father. H'llon returned, knowing that the matter would be sorted.

oOoOo

Masterhealer Oldive was taken aback at the commission he was called in for; but ran full tests on all the children. He was also happy to reacquaint himself with T'lana, glowing with health and vitality with her well grown twin sons that he had seen into the world somewhat more than a year before. He tutted at Felgarra, slung at T'lana's hip, and stared suspiciously at the girl's belly.

"No, Masterhealer, I'm not so daft!" she laughed. "I take all the right herbs. Felgarra's just so stubborn she was determined to be conceived."

He grunted; then gave her his opinion on her new charges.

"Frankly, I'm concerned about the child, Deela. That cough of hers is nasty. Really she should go south; but she's not strong enough to ride so far at this time of year and a trip _between_ could kill her. At least it's dry here. I want her kept warm – but get her out into the good mountain air as much as possible."

T'lana nodded seriously.

"I'll do my best." She said. "What are her chances?"

"Low at the moment – but with decent food and adequate clothing, if she makes it through the winter she'll probably live. She'll always be weak though, I think, and will have to be careful with her health. Now the other one that worries me" he said "Is that lad, Keeby."

T'lana nodded. The boy seemed to be in constant pain and his joints were twisted and swollen as though from joint-ail – though she had never heard of anyone young getting that.

"What is wrong with him?" she asked.

"I've never seen it, but I found an old record." Admitted the Masterhealer. "It was called Perth's disease, so I presume it was first diagnosed in a dragon. Oiling, warmth and judicious exercise seem to be all that can be done to ease the pain. Especially the oil – and this old record recommends swallowing fish oil as well. I shall be trying that with joint-ail patients." T'lana resolved to pass that one onto Camnath.

"So what of the others?" she asked. She had got acquainted with each of them as soon as possible, and was ready to admit that the one who had most disconcerted her was the little girl, Silisse who had on her arrival been so swathed in veils. When unwrapped she had proved to have no colour to her skin or hair and had pink eyes that watered in even low light.

"The pigmentless girl must of course avoid sunlight" explained Oldive. "She will perhaps be happier forming nocturnal habits. The deaf child is healthy enough in other ways – and she seems bright enough, picking up those drum measures you're teaching her as well as reading lips as that fellow was teaching her." T'lana hid a grin at the slight disapproval in Oldive's voice. Even dressed by the Weyr, Daire contrived to look slightly disreputable. "As to him, I could do a better job with his stump." He went on; "So I've told him to come to the Hall come Spring when he'll heal better. With the false leg that lad is making, it'll be somewhat painful the way the skin's just been bundled together. If I take off the scar tissue it will sit more comfortably."

"You're a kind and clever man, Masterhealer." Said T'lana.

"Hmm, well, I don't know. I do my job." He replied, pleased. "Anyway, the rest are healthy enough in themselves. Nothing good food and love won't cure. See you're designing a cart for the lad without legs – he told me he was born that way."

"Yes, he 'walks' on his hands – goes pretty fast. Seems his parents wanted him to be as normal as possible; but when they died of some winter ailment, his aunt wouldn't have him about the place because he gave her the creeps." Said T'lana grimly. "Radall was left to fend for himself. Some people just make you sick."

Master Oldive tutted and nodded. He was more acquainted than most with the intolerance of the strong and healthy towards sickness and deformity; from his own experience of his hunched back as well as from seeing the way some of his patients were viewed by their relatives. He continued his discussion of the children,

"Darellon, with the clubfoot is still young, and might respond to having his foot stretched with oiling every day – and maybe you can fix some device he can wear to pull it straighter as he walks. It'll hurt him, but he may feel it worth a try." T'lana nodded, her fertile brain designing some kind of bracing for his foot; and Oldive continued, "The little lady with the face mark – I can do nothing. Sometimes it just happens; and it can be worse, with horny growths too. She can only hope that she'll find some man who will love her for her lovely disposition." He sighed. "The blind boy might regain some sight – it's been known to happen. But don't hold your breath."

"Thank you, Master Oldive." Said T'lana, pressing his hand. "We're grateful you were able to find time to visit."

"You know I'm always ready to oblige when I'm needed." He said.

"I'd hate to take advantage of your kindness."

He laughed.

"That's not a problem with most Weyrs!" He said dryly.

oOoOo

T'lana had an idea to help Telfer, the blind boy, and asked R'cal for a single firelizard egg from the unassigned ones. She explained to the boy,

"I know a blind girl, Seela; she's not blind from an accident, she just started to lose her sight when she was small. She's got a firelizard now – and she can see through the little one's eyes."

Hope dawned in his face.

"I thought you had to see their eyes to Impress?" he asked.

"Only with Dragons. Firelizards are Impressed by whoever feeds them and thinks love at them. They need to see you; but they assume that if they can see you, you must be able to see them and so you MUST be able to appreciate their beauty." She chuckled. "They're not that bright, really, and terribly vain. Feel. I've an egg here for you, it's not far off hatching. They're hard work at first – always hungry – but the love they give – well, they're splendid!"

Merry crooned from T'lana's neck, and the girl laughed.

"Merry says you can stroke her and see how wonderful she is." She told him, guiding his willing fingers to the little queen's head-knob. "She wants me to tell you that she's not stupid at all."

"So soft!" He exclaimed , touching Merry's skin as she trilled happily.

"They need a lot of oiling to keep the skin soft and supple." T'lana told him. "Like we're doing with the scars that pull at your face. "Do you want to try for your own?"

"Stupid question!" he snorted. "Of course I do!"

oOoOo

Meanwhile, R'cal was spending more time with A'ira, trying not to worry too much over her advancing pregnancy. It was all very well to assure himself that second and subsequent pregnancies were less dangerous; having lost one love he was terrified of it happening again. However, his fears were in vain; A'ira woke him one morning just before dawn.

"It seems to be starting." She said.

"The baby?" He stared wild-eyed. "What shall I do? Do you want Calla?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong… I thought you'd like to leave before I make a noise and upset or irritate you."

R'cal scowled.

"If that's the impression you got from that bloody husband of yours, I wish he were alive so I could wring his selfish neck!" He growled. "We started this together, and we'll fardling well see it through together!"

A'ira held him close; and R'cal stayed with her, rubbing her back and holding her hands as she pushed, until it was all over; and held his red faced, red haired daughter with a wondering look on his face. A'ira laughed, weakly.

"Just remember, this isn't Impression, so you don't have to poke meat pieces into her" she told him. "I get to do the feeding."

Tenderly R'cal passed their daughter to her, and went to fetch her two older boys to meet their baby sister.

oOoOo

_A/N Daire; pronounce all of it. It's not Dare, it's Darragh._


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The Weyr resounded to the creelings of hungry firelizards. T'bor decreed, with R'cal's approval, that the eggs unassigned to smallholders and cotholders should be distributed within the Weyr as messengers and helpers, especially to the women of the lower caverns. Mealtimes became a trifle erratic for several days as the firelizards' needs were seen to before human cravings; and for a short while the Weyrwomen took over the running of the kitchen. This was a mixed blessing; food did arrive more or less on time: and T'lana and Z'linda had had experience of cooking for their families before Impression. However, the general consensus was that it was all to the good when Keerana's little blue lizard was less demanding and she and Lalora resumed control. Of course there were still the occasional 'interesting' meals – the little lizards soon learned to up-end spice pots and add spices not necessarily intended by the cooks – but the training of the little creatures was soon well under way.

oOoOo

Sagarra sent word to Camnath that her blue and brown were dear and wonderful, and thanked him gravely for fetching them for her. She and Amrys were busy, not only with their own lizards, but on demand from such of Rillys's people that she had seen fit to reward with eggs. Amrys had let out that they had helped with other firelizards and even dragonets; so Sagarra sighed and dispensed advice, oil and once purgative to a tail-thickened green. Her own lizards she named Puddle and Sky, the one for his delight in water, the other his clear, pale blue colouring. Amrys, with a blue and a green, named them Sapphire and Emerald quickly shortened to Saph and Em. Rillys Impressed a bronze; and she called him Star for the glory of his eyes.

oOoOo

T'lana was glad that Merry had hatched several weeks before any of the new firelizards. The little queen was well grown and less ravenously hungry, though still as vocal. Mirrith adored her, and was often to be seen with the miniature version of herself riding either on her head or her tail, the tiny queen's tail wrapped around the narrowest part of Mirrith's own caudal extremity. T'lana gave time to help Telfer with his lizard; and help him come to terms with the strange viewpoints he got through his surrogate eyes.

The children were on the whole fostered collectively while they formed attachments; the albino child Silisse, a happy and loving babe, received a lot of fuss and attention, for she was as pretty as she was good, despite her strange looks. Irrana, the deaf girl, was however the first to be singled out. Lalora, herself a shy young woman through growing up in the shadow of her mother, Kylara, and knowing the drum measures herself, applied herself to helping Irrana to communicate. Telfer soon became attached to H'llon: not merely because of H'llon's firelizards, but because the boy had a feel for wood. H'llon set him to finishing work, where touch was more important than sight; and with the help of brown Softy – his disposition matching the softness of his skin – the boy was able to progress further.

Daire had apologised to L'rilly for his clumsiness over Shirallen; and she accepted his regrets warily. She mistrusted the easy-spoken, casual looking man and was rather abrupt with him. Daire nodded and limped off; but the light of battle was in his eye.

oOoOo

T'lana organised relays of riders to take the new children and also the weyr children to Lord Bargen's late Winter Fair. Pilgra's little fosterlings refused point blank; they still weren't ready to face the world and risk coming face to face with the women who had callously given them up. T'lana told Pilgra to go and have fun for once, while she looked after them and the other children who were for some reason remaining. She pointed out that Segrith could fly straight without worrying about the eggs within her body. Pilgra took Lanelly and Marag; and T'lana organised with R'gar's help a little Winter fair of her own for the remaining children and weyrlings with dragonets. Little ones were contained in the circle of Mirrith's tail, on wicker mats to lift them off the snow, and so bundled in furs that only noses were visible! Shirallen had agreed to help; but at the sight of the weyrlings and young dragons he had fled inside again. T'lana had had to reach out her mind to him to calm him down. Later, when she had bedded down tired children for the afternoon nap she went to him; and he laid his head in her lap and sobbed like a child.

"I can't bear it." He said. "I can't bear seeing other people with dragons when Tath isn't here any more." T'lana stroked his hair silently; there was nothing she could think of to say. There was nothing to say. After a while he said, "Part of me wants to leave the weyr – but I don't know where I'd go. I've no trade to fall back on and all my family are here."

T'lana thought quickly.

"I'd wait till the end of winter" she said "but if you really want to see if it's better out of the Weyr, my foster father can always use a hand. He's a cotholder who breeds runnerbeasts. He's a good man, he'd treat you like a son. It's not much, but you'd be working hard enough not to think."

He squeezed her hand gratefully.

"I'll certainly think about it."

oOoOo

Segrith returned from the fair in a slightly snippy mood; and overnight laid fourteen eggs. She was apologetic about the number; but Pilgra hugged her and pointed out that the Weyr had a good complement of dragons, over 300, and there was Daenilth yet to rise for the first time. Segrith was a little mollified; but arranged one egg off to the side and at the back, half regretfully. It was no smaller than the others, but the texture was coarser and the patterns less pronounced. Pilgra shrugged. Sometimes eggs did not hatch, and no one knew why. It was a fact of life. Segrith was an Oldtimer Queen, albeit in her prime, and had already laid one sport. If Mirrith could really be thought of any more as a sport. Segrith was, Pilgra told her, a very clever girl to lay eggs at all which she, Pilgra, couldn't. Segrith allowed herself to be wheedled, though she did remark waspishly that there had better not be any holes in the roof this time. Dragon memories might be short, but that had made a deep impact on the Golden dragon!

oOoOo

The usual betting on the colours of the dragonets took place; and Daire looked puzzled as he listened to the good-natured banter around the subject. He stole quietly away; and later asked H'llon who caught him stealing out of the hatching cavern.

"Why are the dragonmen betting on the colours of the dragonets?"

"Oh, dragonmen bet on anything." H'llon told him, pulling a sour face. "K'len even opened a book on how long it would take me to get laid when I first arrived here!" he made an irritated noise remembering his anger and embarrassment when he had found out.

"Hmm." Mused Daire. "So – that means that most people can't see the colours shining through the shells, huh?"

"Are you telling me you can?"

"Only if you can keep quiet about it, woodman." Said Daire. "I noticed that I could tell the firelizard colours – and I've just been in there and I'm positive it works with dragon eggs too. Though it's a little harder." He grinned impishly. "It'll take the two of us – but we could clean up on a dead cert if you're game to avenge yourself on their betting on your libido."

"I do believe," said H'llon slowly "I'll take you up on that. Though I'm not a betting man generally." He was still a little sore at K'len for his intrusion even though he had since realised that most dragonriders were incorrigible gamblers.

"Okay" said Daire. "There's only one Bronze – and that seems to be where at least half the money lies. I gather Segrith has a high Bronze ratio, so you should do well there if you go for that. You can also say that there's more Browns than Blues – which there is if you count the strange egg."

"Strange egg?" Asked H'llon.

"Yeah, it's something there is about it. Dunno exactly." Daire was cagey; and H'llon wondered if he knew more than he was telling. Daire shrugged casually and went on. "There's eight Greens" he said "And that's where I'll clean up – on numbering the other colours. Eight Greens, two Blues, three Browns. Can't miss, huh?"

"If you're right." Said H'llon, prudently. "But fardles – I can tell when Thread's coming, or heavy weather. T'lan talks to all dragons. I guess it's all part of the same kind of thing." He shook hands on the bargain with Daire; and went to lay his bet with half his store of marks.

oOoOo

"Only one?" Enquired K'len. "You sure you want to stick by that? Segrith always lays good proportion. Excepting the time I Impressed when there was only T'sellan's Corvath."

"One" said H'llon firmly, hoping that the bearded man was right.

"You want to lay odds on who Impresses?" Asked K'len. H'llon shook his head.

"Not likely. There might be more candidates in – and what I've seen of this bunch I don't fancy any of them as Bronze riders." He said. "Poor showing this time. The best men among them are the girls." K'len laughed at this sally; and Daire's soft voice spoke up behind him.

"Ah, and its laying odds on a high number of greens I'll be doin' if you please, K'len" he said. "Eight, I'm guessing, above the statistical norm, and I'll have a few marks on equal boy-girl Impression of them too."

"You shall have it." Grinned K'len. "Say, what's this 'statistical norm' crap – you been working with our T'lan?"

"Sure, the girl's a clever one. Almost as clever as yon one is pretty." He said, waving a lazy hand at L'rilly. L'rilly stared down her nose at him; and Zammo and Bubbles hissed at him, eyes starting to whirl. Daire laughed softly; and L'rilly stalked off.

"I love 'em angry." He said, just loud enough for her to overhear. "Just look at that gorgeous, furious little arse."

L'rilly swung and Daire received the contents of a mug of klah full in the face. She strode out as he spluttered.

"And she can even throw straight" he murmured admiringly to himself.

oOoOo

There was a large number of female candidates as the word had filtered out that High Reaches Weyr was offering Green eggs to girls; and plenty had volunteered to avoid the drudgery of marriage, childbearing and early death. Not all were Impression material; but those who were not would be likely to find a niche for themselves. T'bor had no objections to having willing new blood in the Weyr; as many weyrfolk had a tendency to travel frequently dragonback, most women had few babies and became rapidly sterile. Inbreeding was a real problem. It had been one of the reasons F'lar had Searched widely instead of keeping to the Weyrbred candidates at Benden. Extra women of childbearing age were always good to have; and whilst they did not want to be brood mares as in the Holds, most would have one or two children and add to the next generation.

T'lana had become de facto weyrlingmistress for the young women; and she included the disfigured Sharanis with the candidates. If she Impressed, she'd never have to worry again about someone to love her. She would have liked to have tried Telfer, who certainly had no fear of Melth; but his blindness would have been a liability. If his sight returned, even partially, with firelizard enhancement it would be time to consider it another time.

At just fifteen turns, Sharanis was the youngest of the female candidates, traditionally older than the boys. She quickly found a friend in a seaholdbred girl, Mirian, who was quietly hardworking.

"It's a hard life being a sailor's wife." She explained. "The men can be gone for days at a time; and there are so many danger." A shadow of sadness passed over her face. "I lost my father, my brother and my husband all on the same trip."

Sharanis pressed her hand in sympathy.

"So you came to the Weyr?"

"They came on Search. They said I was suitable; I had nothing there. My mother's long dead, and my daughter's portable luggage." She pointed to the toddling child playing with Rogan and Rofel. "Even if I don't Impress, I can help the women; and she'll have a better life than being a fishing man's wife and widow."

The unpleasant Bellova was still at the Weyr, refusing to be presented to any but a Gold egg; and the other girls were amused that T'lana kept her performing the duties assigned to candidates.

"If you want to wait on a Gold egg, you can act like a weyrmember while you do it." The young Queenrider told her uncompromisingly. "You have two choices – you can shut up and put up – or you can go home. Riverbend's that way. Enjoy the walk." It did not occur to Bellova that if she asked T'bor she could probably have a dragonride home; so she put up, but continued to grumble. She did not dare shirk her duties when T'lana was watching, but she did plot quietly. One night she slipped up to the drumheights and promised to man them while the young harper on duty got himself warm; and took advantage of his absence to send a message to her father that she was being ill treated at the Weyr. T'bor, awakened by the message, awaited an angry parent while Pilgra and T'lana scolded the girl for sending a message without permission. T'lana pointed out that she could have sent such a message legitimately – had she asked. The girl's chagrin was increased when only a drum message was returned to T'bor –

"KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK."

T'lana winced in genuine pity, and pulled a face.

"Tactless man, your father." She remarked. "You'd have thought he'd at least investigate."

Bellova burst into tears of rage and humiliation; and T'lana exchanged a look with Pilgra and gave the girl a hug. Bellova half-heartedly shrugged her away; but T'lana ignored that.

"C'mon Bellova, look about you." She said. "If I was really mistreating you, you'd be in a similar state to Daire's fair of brats when he first brought them in. Or we'd be forcing you to bed with any rider that fancied it. Or beating you till the bone showed for disobeying. I've seen it happen, and worse. That's ill treatment. What's the worst thing I've ever done to you – thrown you in the midden for refusing to muck out those fardling dragonets after you'd cheeked R'gar. You're not truly frightened of me are you? I mean so your belly clenches, and you need the necessary when you see me?" Bellova shook her head. T'lana continued, "That's what you feel when someone's bullying you. And know, Bellova, if anyone made you feel that way, I'd have their guts for garters. I mean, I'd be really angry. You've never seen me angry: but I'd not allow that to happen to one of our people. I know about it. I'm glad I'd not made you feel that way, for it's what I most despise. And girl! If you were home you'd have to get married. You'd be property and pregnant every year; and no guarantee that your husband would treat you right. Ask A'ira, who reckons her husband was pretty good. He sometimes showed pleasure in her presence and only hit her when he was drunk."

Bellova remained stiff, but she said nothing. T'lana's words had a point. She knew that no husband would put up with any tantrums. She also knew in her heart that T'lana had been patient in her dealings with her, and believed her when she said that she would defend her from real bullying. Pride however kept her silent, and she merely nodded acknowledgement and took herself to bed. T'lana smiled in satisfaction. She knew that at last her words had reached the stubborn girl, who was not perhaps as utterly spoiled as she appeared. Even if at the moment there was a high degree of enlightened self-interest in her acceptance of discipline.

oOoOo

With the exception of the girls who had asked to come, T'bor decided not to send out a Search for Segrith's rather small clutch. There were still candidates from Tamalenth's clutching who were not unreasonable choices; and one or two weyrbred boys had passed the age threshold.

"And of course" he said to Pilgra "It's been known for younger lads to Impress. F'lon put F'nor to the hatching grounds at only ten turns. Good job too – it was years before Nemorth rose again." Pilgra nodded. T'bor kept an eye on her waistline; and having heard tales of Jora she could see why.

"So long as they have enough choice." She said. He grunted.

"Not much problem of that this time". He said, then added, "Sorry. Didn't mean to be tactless." Pilgra shrugged.

"She's laid a good few clutches of reasonable sizes to bring us up to strength. I'm inclined to take it as an indication that Daenilth will be fertile. Spreading the clutching around."

T'bor nodded.

"You're probably right." He grinned. "It's an irritating habit you have."

oOoOo

If irritating habits were in question, L'rilly considered that the man Daire had them in abundance. To be sure he had an attractive smile with nice teeth; and the face hair was so different it was quite – interesting; but he wasn't a rider and was unlikely to be; and he had a disconcerting habit of saying things that made her blush. It was, she thought, more his way of looking at her than what he said; and she frequently itched to slap him. Especially when he implied that anger made her more beautiful.

"Go jerk yourself off!" She snapped crudely when he followed her back to her weyr one evening. "I'm not interested in you, you're a rogue and a rascal."

"Rogue and Rascal – fancy that, it sounds like a pair of good stallions to my mind." He grinned. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to slap you in a minute." She said.

"Oh now, don't do that. It'd be a shame to have to spank that pretty butt of yours in retaliation." He said. She glowered at him.

"I only like riders." She said loftily.

"DO you now!" He grinned again, lazily, his eyes half lidded, making her comment a lewd suggestion.

"Dragonriders!" She emphasised. "Bronze riders at that, whose dragons can please Tamalenth."

"Ah now, that's a shame." He seemed crestfallen. "For it's just over twenty turns I am, and they'll not be taking me for a candidate unless I was going for a Queen; and me gender's against me there."

"Fool!" She said, trying not to laugh despite herself at his tragi-comic face.

"Seems like" he admitted cheerfully. "But sure, I'm mostly a happy fool, which is more than many can say."

L'rilly sniffed and turned her back on him.

"You don't think it's worth me shaving me beard off, cutting down the other leg and wearing me pants too tight so they'll think I'm thirteen?" He said to her back. She stiffened.

"You're impossible!" She flung back over her shoulder, and marched up the steps to her weyr. He watched her in.

"Sure, and you're not far off it yourself." He murmured. "They say the best things in life are never easy." And he limped into H'llon's workshop to see what the young woodcrafter was making. H'llon waved a preoccupied hand to his bench in welcome; and Daire sat down.

"Could you carve something for me when I have the marks to pay for it after the hatching? He asked. H'llon looked up.

"I should think so. What?"

"I'm wanting a dragon, an ornament. A wood as close to bronze as possible – or stained to the right colour. I want him to look….feisty." he said thoughtfully.

"Sure, no problem. As soon as I've finished the mending work. It is my main job after all."

"No hurry." Daire watched the sure handed way H'llon worked for a while; then left, satisfied.

oOoOO

The humming had everyone streaming into the hatching caverns. Hatching began, perhaps inauspiciously, with a Green, who bawled her way into Mirian's arms. It was not long before Sharanis joined her seabred friend in the joyous contemplation of a rainbow regard; and both were greeted formally by T'lana saying,

"Well done M'rian and Sh'ranis."

Then the Bronze hatched.

Impatiently he butted the waiting boys and, walking across one, laid open the lad's thigh as the little creature bawled for his partner.

"No!" Cried Daire in lively horror. "You can't possibly – you silly little clunch, I'm not a fardling candidate!"

"_Where are you?"_ he heard the wistful call. _"I am Esruth, and I need you!"_

Daire limped down to collapse in his haste beside the dragonet.

"You're crazy." He said, reaching instinctively for Esruth's eyebrow ridges.

"_I'm hungry."_

"Jays!" Exclaimed Daire, dazed, gazing adoringly at the little Bronze dragon, mottled like autumn leaves. "Sure and that complicates things – and it doesn't, so to speak."

Esruth complained that it wasn't complicated at all. He was hungry; and dear D're would feed him. D're blinked, and embraced the dragonet. Discarding his crutch as unwieldy he leaned on Esruth to get up, and rider and dragonet emerged from the cavern into the cold bowl, propping each other up.

"It's crazy" he said to R'gar "I'm too old."

"HE doesn't think so." Said R'gar, indicating Esruth. "And that, D're, is what counts."

L'rilly stared in horrified fascination, recalling the conversation of a few nights before. Had he known? No, he was totally dazed by Impressing. But if he had been impossible before he'd be doubly so now – as soon as his dragonet gave him time!

All the eggs had hatched except the last, which shook feebly. One of the candidates, a lad who had already been to three hatchings, ran forward.

"If Jaxom and T'mon can do it, so can i." He said grimly, smashing at the shell before he could be stopped. "I MUST Impress, my parents expect it!" He cracked the shell open, then stepped back in horror and fell over backwards. "NO! NO!" he cried, covering his eyes and scuttling away.

Out of the shell fell a damp brown dragonet – of sorts. It creeled with hunger and a need for affection: but it's wings were a travesty of a dragon's wing, stunted and twisted. Those left on the hatching ground gasped with horror.

"Oh no, poor little thing!" Sobbed T'lana. "What can we do? Someone must Impress him!" The remaining candidates were sure it would not be them. With quick glances at each other, they left as one accord, quicker than ever disappointed candidates had before.

"How DARE they!"

A voice rang out at the cavern entrance. Shirallen stood there, fury on his face. "And they dared aspire to be dragonmen!" his scorn pursued the fleeing boys as he strode forward to lift the creeling brown dragonet's chin.

"I know what it is to be incomplete." He said softly. "It's all right, Warneth, I will take care of you."

"But – you can't re-Impress!" gasped Pilgra.

"I guess no-one thought to tell Warneth that." Said T'lan dryly. "I daresay it's because the circumstances are so strange."

"Yes" said Pilgra. "I'm glad we hadn't many guests this time. Five girls Impressing, a man past Impressionable age and – Warneth. Poor creature, what's going to happen to him?"

"Well" said T'lana, ever practical, "He can chew firestone and flame with the ground crews; and he'll be able to send messages; and he's saved our Sh'len. For the last alone he justifies his existence – if any dragonkind needs to."

"Don't be so fardling touchy." Snapped Pilgra. "Anyone would think it was your clutch."

"I've a soft spot for Segrith" admitted T'lana. "And I'm rather used to snide comments about being different, remember?" T'lana was tart; and Pilgra embraced her.

"We'll muddle through." She said philosophically."

oOoOo

"It could only" groaned T'bor "Happen at High Reaches."

As their sated dragonets slept, Sh'len and D're found themselves together, separated from either the girls and the much younger boys; and they made their way to the communal eating cavern in the companionable silence of two people who know the world will disapprove of them. They entered to the words,

"….Ridiculous, a dragon that can't fly!"

T'lan, T'ral and H'llon were instantly on their feet; but L'rilly beat them to it. The speaker's chin cracked back under a very nice left hook. L'rilly stared at her own fist for a moment; then let out a groan of pain. D're limped to her side, brushing T'lana aside.

"That was a lovely blow, so it was." He murmured. "And well deserved. Come now, let's be showing that to Calla for a bit of attention." She glanced at him suspiciously; but went with him. Sh'len was called to by several voices. He raised his hands; and there was silence.

"You call me Sh'len again" he said "And I thank you that you accept Warneth a dragon enough to contract me. But Sh'len was – was Tath's rider." He swallowed. "If you feel I can be contracted, I shall be Sh'allen; Warneth will not be flying, so a short contraction is not necessary."

He was given an ovation; and his brother led him to a seat.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

It was not a momentous event to any but their friends when Y'lara's Tanath rose to be flown by M'kel's Vorth; though those who had suffered from Y'lara's fine seabred temper in the preceding days celebrated as heartily as her close friends that the flight would improve her disposition no end. Friends of M'kel stole into Y'lara's weyr as they lay, sleeping off the excesses of dragonlust; and M'kel awoke to find that his prize possession had been awarded a blue riband for excellence. M'kel was not a man of small ego; and he proudly displayed the emblem sewn to his jacket on the opposite shoulder to his rank knots. Y'lara wore merely a smug expression in addition to her normal garb; M'kel's philandering was at an end. Sharing dragonlust had spoiled him for any other woman! Y'lara was cheered by the other seven female Greenriders, loudest by young L'nna, who had just Impressed, and who, as K'len's sister had long known M'kel!

oOoOo

H'llon had finished carving the wooden leg and foot for D're and Serelis, and set about fitting them. The design team – T'lana, L'gani and H'llon – had already been busy with accessories to help out the other children who needed aids to get about, or make their rooms more comfortable. H'llon had made as good a job as he could of fitting the ends to the stumps, well padded with leather, but the scar tissue was still painful for D're. He knew however that with a young dragonet he would have no opportunity to lie about in the Healer Hall, so he rubbed the scar with oil and unguents to ease it, and lived with the pain. It was still easier than crutches, and once he was used to it he could get about quite fast and scarcely limping. Serelis too adapted well and could quickly take the steps to Laranth's weyr at a run. Being of enquiring mind, she had mostly moved in with T'lana's family, though she still occasionally clung to D're, whom she adored. All the children still turned to him from time to time, though most were now settling in with foster families. Being wanted was a sufficient novelty for some of them that they were intensely suspicious; like Darellon, who had all his life been made to feel guilty for his clubfoot. His foster father, a Brown rider whose own son had died in a weyrling accident many turns before was patient and gentle and soon the boy began to learn to trust. Legless Radall, assigned at first to a matronly aunt of Keerana's found her irritating in her insistence that she help him with everything; and, loading his few clothes and possessions onto the cart H'llon had fashioned for him, wheeled himself into the woodcrafter's workshop and demanded to be prepared for an apprenticeship. Since H'llon was already training Telfer and a weyrbred girl named Elissa he made no objection: providing the boy was absolutely obedient in the presence of potentially dangerous tools. He need not have worried; not only was Radall a polite, obedient child, he was precise to the point of fussiness. H'llon thought he had a great future as a craftsman ahead of him. Radall was quite single-minded in his pursuit of woodcrafting; and H'llon determined to sponsor him to the woodcraft hall when the time came to test for journeyman.

Elissa had pestered her parents to speak to H'llon for her after spending time hanging around his workshop. The previous woodcrafter had sent her about her business; but H'llon had just told her sharply to stay clear of the tools, and had given her some offcuts to play with. She had asked intelligent questions; and he had been glad to take the time to answer them. Noting her attempts to craft her bits of wood with a belt knife, he had sighed and showed her how to use proper tools; and had let her use old ones while he kept a sharp eye on her. The girl had a talent; and he told her so. He was able to tell her parents the same thing when they tentatively asked him, apologising for her pestering of him. Radical H'llon took a while to realise they were also apologising for her gender! She had thus joined Telfer, who appreciated the feel and smell of wood; and as both youngsters were of enquiring mind, also followed H'llon in his pursuit of logicating, as taught by T'lana.

oOoOo

T'lana was finding that so many people asked questions about the application of logical deduction that she set aside the time she spent in mending clothes and leathers to talk while she worked. Sometimes the discussion got side-tracked onto mathematics; but her knowledge of that was too esoteric for more than a handful of people, and the use of Boolean tables to eliminate possibilities made most eyes glaze over. So she taught simple techniques of deduction from observation, and left Boolean algebra and probability calculation to evening chats with H'llon, L'gal and R'gar. She held forth on the importance of noticing everything..

"What people often refer to as intuition" she explained, as she plaited a complex nine-strand braid to trim her new jacket "is in fact nothing more than the mind adding up details and discrepancies and prodding the Thought in its ribs, so to speak." She paused to run in a fancy knotting of the heavy black cord that wove from side to side amongst the four gold and four dark blue strands. The braid would match the colours in her rank knot, with its blue for High Reaches Weyr and gold for her dragon's colour; but she was adding a heavy black zigzag to show the seven spindles repeated in the length. She went on, "Of course there are stories of people who are truly precognitive, but they are rare. The so-called dragonrider instinct is, I'm convinced, at least ninety percent a predisposition among those suitable for Impression to go around in a more alert fashion than is common. Details come to all the senses; and all senses can and should be trained. The first logicating I did was helped by the sticky-slimy feeling of a body destroyed by a strong acid – one stronger than agenothree. Smells are often very evocative: dragons smell musky, but different colours have a slightly different odour. And it's easy to pick out firelizard scent from dragon. H'llon smells of the resin-rich wood that grows around here that we use in furnishings." She waved a hand at H'llon who rose and bowed ironically. D're put in,

"And by smell you can tell if people are afraid, or eager, or lying. They sweat more if they're lying."

T'lana nodded.

"And there are more reasons for people to lie than that they've done something wrong. It might be as simple as –oh, wanting to avoid seeing their in-laws." Her eyes met H'llon's, laughing, for she knew he detested his sister in law. He raised an eyebrow.

"It's pick on H'llon day today is it?" he asked cheerfully. She grinned.

"Something like that" she agreed. "But whatever the reason for lying, verbally or implied with clothing to suggest someone is what they are not, there's a reason; and that reason might be an important clue. I want you all to play a game with yourselves – whenever you meet someone new, see how much you can work out about them. I don't mean just obvious things like journeyman's knots – though if they strike a wrong note that could be important. Like" she said "If I borrowed H'llon's jacket it would obviously not be mine – okay, that's your revenge, H'llon, I know it'd take six of me to fill your jacket" – H'llon was a good span taller than R'gar and broader across the shoulder than anyone in the Weyr – "I meant, my calluses don't fit." She displayed her tiny hands. "I dabble a little for making engineering structures, so I'd maybe pass as a woodcraft apprentice – but not a journeyman. Look at H'llon's hands." H'llon obediently displayed his large palms. She went on, "I also, in common with most riders, have a leatherpalm callus from mending straps. Now look at L'gal's hands. He has hard skin on the ends of his fingers from playing the harp and gitar. He also cuts every nail short except that right thumbnail for the same reason. But look – he has some rub marks, not enough to be calluses where he has done light woodworking, from instrument crafting. Including that telltale triangular gouge mark on his left forefinger where he got impatient with a chisel. Don't hide it, L'gal, I've seen it many a time when you're eating." L'gal gave her a rueful look.

"The wood was harder than I was used to." He explained.

"Moreover" T'lana continued, "People tell you something about themselves the moment they open their mouths. There are variations in accents in different regions, despite the efforts of the harpers to keep the language pure. Look at D're, whose family I'll bet originated in Ruatha. It's an accent the Ruathan runnerbeast breeders often have."

"Sure and the weyrwoman's got it in one" said D're. "All the best dragonriders come out of Ruatha."

"All the best runnerbeasts too." Added T'lana. "Something to do with having the best stamina." She said dryly. D're grinned., and she went on, "it's often the choice of phrasing and words that tell where people come from. Seaholders are inclined towards rather colourful language – but I don't advise that anyone study Y'lara's linguistic patterns too closely!"

"Too right!" Agreed H'llon with feeling. Y'lara had recently discovered which young men had invaded her weyr to decorate M'kel; and each had received a short burst of her fluent criticism. That one of them had been Weyrsecond L'gani had not daunted her. He, however, being seabred himself had listened in admiration and disconcerted her by offering congratulations on her command of language.

Into this atmosphere of eager logicating came the two strangers who arrived with the thaw as unsuspecting targets for all the would-be logicators.

oOoOo

The man was tall, weather-beaten, well built and muscular. He had well-developed thighs and strong arms to match. His golden brown hair he wore long and loose, but punctiliously washed.

"There's a scar on his neck under it" reported Serelis.

His eyes were grey and piercing.

"And he scowls at firelizards" said Telfer, whose little brown Softy had fled in fear to his young human, sending images of eyes flashing like fire.

"He's hurt his arm at some point" volunteered D're, who had been half scornful of the game at first but had rapidly become more eager. "He favours it. I reckon it's the inside forearm."

The man gave his name as Zakan, a marksman from the smithcraft hold.

"He sure can mend pots" twelve year old Elissa declared "And his jewellery's pretty, though the patterns are strange."

"He can do tanner work" put in R'bret, who had joined them "Though of course we mend our own; and he has calluses in the right place. Like me."" He added with a grimace, for he had recently been replacing his fighting straps.

"He does well for himself" declared D're "For he's carrying extra flesh to his bones."

"Also his clothes are good" said H'llon. "He does know his tools; he's put a better sharp to my saw than I can do."

"He says the youth is his son." Said T'lana. "What do you make of that?"

"Colouring's all right for it." Remarked H'llon. "Golden hair and blue eyes. A bit pretty. In his shoes I'd cut those curls off."

"He's a bit nice and niffy for a traderboy." Said Telfer. "I took him for a hot bath after the journey, and he muttered about privacy and waited for me to go." Softy chirped and pulled his ear.

"Either shy of snotty." Said Serelis. Elissa nodded, but put in,

"Of course non weyrfolk might think that because of blues and greens…"

"C'm off it" said Telfer, "I'm just a kid too. I ask you, do I look threatening?"

"Frankly from someone my size" said Elissa "Not knowing you – and certainly not knowing that you're blind as well as barmy, - maybe."

There was a brief scuffle; the two youngsters had a cheerful rivalry that occasionally erupted into horseplay.

D're said slowly,

"Trader boys can't afford to be shy."

"Nor yet stand-offish." Added H'llon. "They can't afford to put off customers."

"So, logical lady, we've hit one of your discrepancies." Grinned D're. "Have Zakan and his son committed some dastardly crime?"

"I leave the deductions about young Zairan to L'rilly." Said T'lana, throwing out a hand as the young queenrider joined them. L'rilly lifted an eyebrow, exchanged a look with T'lana and laughed.

"I ought to work it out second time around, oughtn't I?" She said ruefully.

"Too cryptic, even coming from your beautiful lips." Said D're. She affected to ignore him.

"I wonder what her real name is" mused L'rilly . There were a few surprised gasps; but H'llon and D're exchanged a look and nodded.

"We'll maybe find out – and a lot more." T'lana told them. "Zakan has asked to leave his son in the Weyr as a candidate."

"Why?" Asked L'rilly bluntly. T'lana shrugged.

"The logical reason would be the same as for dressing her as a boy – protection from threat or threats unknown. He seems to be fond of her – though he's trying to hide it."

"Mmm." Agreed H'llon. "Like the way R'gar acts towards you and the kids. Is that valid? That you can compare behaviour of people you know to deduce motives of people you don't?"

T'lana frowned thoughtfully.

"Yes, I suppose I do it all the time. You're right, H'llon. Only it's a risky business, because no two people are in precisely the same situation. It's a valuable guide, though."

H'llon looked pleased. T'lana went on,

"From what he is protecting her we have no idea –probably the lustful advances of someone he cannot stop on his own, someone powerful. He knows that dragonmen won't take any shit from anyone, so a Weyr is a safe place; but he has reason to suspect the motives even of dragonmen, so he disguises her as a boy. I find that, with other clues, highly suggestive as to his origins. H'llon, sum up."

H'llon started ticking off points on his fingers.

"Alright – he loves his – let's say, daughter. He probably wants her kept safe. That indicates some danger – probably from Holders and other bandits" he grinned as T'lana playfully tutted and wagged a finger at him, and continued, "He cares about his appearance; and he's well enough off to be a bit vain about it. He knows how to craft metal and leather; he's not over-keen on firelizards; he's rather arrogant – had you noticed?" T'lana nodded, and he added, "he's been wounded in two places – in the arm and on the neck."

"Neck is threadscore," said R'gar as he passed.

"Threadscore – sure, dear?" Asked T'lan.

"Got Laranth to sneeze. Shifted his hair." Grunted R'gar, passing quickly by. T'lana laughed.

"Of course, he's not interested in logicating." She murmured. H'llon grinned, and resumed.

"Zakan's not worried by dragons." He said. "But if he's traded around weyrs, I guess he'd be used to them."

"Did you notice his thighs?" Asked T'lana.

"T'lan!" Said L'rilly, shocked.

"Don't get excited – I wasn't." T'lana gave her a lewd wink and L'rilly burned. D're chuckled and she glared at him.

"Muscular." H'llon answered T'lana's original question. "Metalworkers have heavy arms and shoulders. His are muscular, but – not so much as a senior journeyman's would be. Though he'd not do so much heavy work as a marksman. But his legs carry muscles as well developed as if he regularly lifted weights – or rode a lot. Those runners are pack beasts, not riding animals."

"Who else often gets muscled thighs – more than the calves?" asked T'lana

D're gave her a look.

"Dragonriders." He said. "Especially those who fly leading edge where they have to dodge around a lot. And building on a metalcrafter's muscles, they'd get pretty heavy. Like our H'llon is going to do from all that woodcutting." H'llon thumped him lightly, careful not to knock him off balance but not so lightly as to insult him.

"A dragonless man?" Gasped Telfer.

" Seems too – well, with himself, if you know what I mean." Frowned H'llon.

"He's got his daughter to live for of course" said T'lana "But surely if he wanted her in a weyr he'd leave her in his own – and hope for a Queen egg. Most other places have a higher likelihood of getting one than us. Anyway, dragonmen don't seem to upset him. I've seen Lord Lytol's face, even this long after and with young Ruth around all the time too."

H'llon groaned.

"Answer one question and a heap more get asked." He said.

"We could be wrong" said T'lana "but I reached the same conclusion as D're." She added "the Threadscoring isn't quite a clincher, but it's surely suggestive. And why hide it if he didn't want to conceal his station?"

The logicators decided that the best thing to do was to watch and learn more; and it was, besides almost suppertime, as Serelis pointed out.

oOoOo

Before going in to eat, T'lana asked Geriana to draw Zakan and Zairan in various poses.

"Then draw one of him with short hair and Threadscoring on the neck" she told the girl. Geri gave her a sharp look.

"You'll be wanting me to draw the girl as a girl too?" She asked.

"Yes please." Said T'lana. "You'd noticed?"

Geri shrugged.

"Artists do notice." She said. T'lana grinned.

"Welcome to the Logicator team." She said.

oOoOo

Zakan was not a communicative man. T'lana made sure to sit next to him at supper, asking if he had travelled far and how long he had been a marksman. He skilfully fielded her questions in apparent good humour, although her 'inner ear' detected irritation at the babbling girl who he presumed was some holder bitch waiting for a golden egg. Adroitly he ended the thread of conversation and turned to address compliments about the cooking to the man on the other side of him.

His other neighbour was H'llon; and opposite him sat L'rilly and D're in uneasy alliance. L'rilly was every inch a Weyrwoman; and it was plain that he assumed that both H'llon and D're were fully fledged riders and treated them with carefully assumed deference. D're freely admitted having lost his leg to Thread, and answered without so much as a bat of the eyelid that his dragon was unharmed.

T'lana managed to get close enough to Zakan through the excuse of reaching for condiments to get a good smell of him. She was rewarded. The distinctive odour of runners clung to his clothing as was usual with traders; but underlying was that musky scent that came only from dragons.

H'llon was asking innocent-seeming questions about where Zakan had visited. He found an endless number of journeymen woodcrafters assigned to the places that the man claimed to have been to, and asked after them. Zakan's smile was soon looking rather fixed.

"Melth likes the smell of wood" H'llon claimed, brightly. "He likes to watch me at work."

Zakan's eyes took on a slightly soppy look. T'lana wondered briefly whether to ask outright his dragon's name and trap him into answering: but there were too many questions unanswered – and if danger caused him to disguise himself and his daughter, shock of exposure might make him flee with her and expose her to more danger. T'lana had arranged for the girl to sit with the older weyrlings, Impressed and of Impressionable age; and left her to fend for herself. T'lana knew that she'd soon find out if anything had been let slip, and also fully intended to have a long talk with the child as soon as she had settled in. Calla's reticence over her own situation had been all very well, but it would have been nice to have had someone to confide in who knew her secret. Pilgra had to some extent become that confidant when she guessed that the boy T'lan was a girl, and T'lana was always grateful and willing to turn to Pilgra as to an older sister in as far as she confided in anyone but R'gar! Thus she continued chatting brightly to Zakan: explaining that Zairan could be expectant of a clutch soon since Daenilth was just about mature and Sh'rilla already involved with the rider of a strong Bronze.

"Of course, we're by no means sure she'll clutch a Queen first go" she said cheerily "So some of the girls who've been turning up might be disappointed; but we don't turn them away because we've been very successfully putting girls to Greens for two turns now."

"Indeed?" Asked Zakan, a trifle frostily, but interested. "You have some say, I presume?" he drawled sarcastically.

"Certainly when Mirrith clutches." Said T'lana airily. "And as she's Daenilth's mother, I take a kind of interest in her offspring too."

She could see his perceptions of her shift as he reorganised his ideas about her status.

"Forgive me, Queenrider" he said. "I had no idea of your rank. You look so young." He did not have to employ flattery; it was true.

"I am eighteen turns – well, nearly." She replied with dignity.

"Just don't ask how nearly!" quipped L'rilly.

"Your Queen rose young, then." Zakan was surprised. "And you must have been a mere child!"

T'lana grinned.

"Mirrith's not terribly good at being conventional." She explained. "And nor am I. Here at High Reaches we pride ourselves on being flexible."

"I see." He said. Some of the tension left him as he assimilated the relaxed attitudes of the two young Weyrwomen near him. T'lana decided to reassure him further by telling her own story.

"Of course, Mirrith didn't have a golden shell" she told him, "and hatched with a decidedly green cast. So I was able to go on pretending to be a lad."

"Pretending to be a lad? Why ever were you doing that?" His tone was casual, but he was alert, and his eyes spoke his interest. T'lana shrugged, casually.

"Oh, I was in Nabol Hold, hiding from Meron – concealed by obviousness. It seemed more practical than running away." She said. "When I was taken on Search I hadn't the guts to confess the truth. I guess younkers get uptight about the silliest things, don't they?"

"Grandma." Retorted L'rilly across the table; and T'lana stuck her tongue out at her friend. Zakan blinked at this undignified exchange; and said,

"Some men are just a menace to society."

"Yeah." T'lana agreed. "People like Meron and Fax and T'kul ought to be given a one way trip to the Red Star – oh fardles, sorry!" she added as all the firelizards present disappeared. She sent apologies; and one by one they reappeared, chittering at her irritably.

"I SAID I'm sorry" she apologised. "Don't look at me like that you pesky flutterbugs!"

Zakan had started at her inclusion of T'kul in the list of people she vituperated. He also raised an eyebrow at her rapport with the firelizards, despite her verbal denigration of them.

"How many are yours?" he asked.

"Only Merry, the pretty little queen over there. I don't really like the pesky creatures that much." She shrugged. "Not unless they're well trained, anyway." She amended. "I find time for H'llon's four, R'cal's three and V'gion's pair."

"Never know whose they are." His mouth compressed in disapproval.

"That's why I only tolerate the ones I know near me."

"You can tell them apart?" he was surprised.

"Of course. They have subtle colour variations; their faces vary; and they have different ways of expressing their thoughts. Voices vary too, but the variations are often in a pitch too high for me to hear the difference." She added, "You'd not mistake one dragon for another, would you now?"

"I suppose not." He conceded. "Although…." He stopped. "Well, some are more similar than others." He finished lamely. It was not what he had intended to say; and T'lana could have 'overheard'; but it would have been impolite. He did not feel to her like a threat; she knew she would 'hear' any ill intentions towards her or any of her friends. Zakan now apparently felt that he had said too much; and applied himself to his food. He was very good at closing in on himself; and T'lana, who had been toying with the idea of reaching 'through' him to his dragon abandoned the idea. She might succeed; but probably only by alerting him. She would have to move circumspectly and continue logicating. Which led her to wonder if his reaction to her inclusion of T'kul in the list of wicked men was shock at so discussing a dragonrider and Weyrleader, surprise that another rider should so frankly express such views – or a reaction of surprised agreement. He must know, wherever he came from, that T'bor's people had had to put right the damage caused to dragonmen by T'kul – if, of course, he believed the extent of the problem. Fardles, but the man was a puzzle!

oOoOo

The logicators had another visitor to practise on the following day. A richly clad woman accompanied by two liveried men, all mounted on fine runners and leading a fourth, made their way into the Weyr under guidance from a couple of weyrlings. The woman shrilly demanded to see T'bor.

T'bor asked how he might be of assistance.

"Where is my daughter? What have you monsters been doing to her?" Demanded the woman, batting away 'assistance' from some of the youthful logicators.

"Your daughter?" asked T'bor, blankly.

"My Husband is the Holder at Riverbend." Declared the woman. "Our dear daughter is the lady Bellova who has been ill-treated and doubtless imprisoned here."

T'bor stared at her, open mouthed. He had almost forgotten the drum message the foolish girl had sent. He turned, looking for someone to ask about Bellova; and his eyes fell upon T'lana. Of course, he thought, whom else.

"Ah – Weyrwoman T'lana." He said, very formally. "Could you see if you could find Candidate Bellova, if you know where she is?"

"Of course, Weyrleader." Replied T'lana, equally formally, playing the game. She turned and headed for the weyrling barracks.

oOoOo

After T'lana's rather blunt pointing out of a few home truths, Bellova had been quietly assessing her situation. She had rapidly come to the conclusion that whether she Impressed or not, her situation in the Weyr was a lot more self-determinate than at her old home, social rank despite. She was not, therefore, at all pleased when T'lana stuck her head round the door of the teaching room and informed her that her mother was there. For all her faults, Bellova was a quick and diligent student of theory, thirsting for knowledge; and had decided that if she could not Impress, she could do worse than study Healercraft of both dragons and people.

"What the fardling shards does she want?" She asked crossly, looking up from a scroll. T'lana noticed that her vocabulary had shifted since associating with the mixed bag of backgrounds in the Weyr. T'lana told her,

"She has a spare runner. Looks like she wants you to go home." Her tone was laconic. Bellova was not T'lana's favourite person; but nevertheless she did intend to help the girl to stay if she expressed a wish to do so.

Bellova expressed such a wish.

"I don't want to go back!" she cried. T'lana nodded.

"You don't have to." She said. "Of course, if one of your kin is ill, I'll get you back on Mirrith then pick you up again whenever you need."

Bellova threw her a grateful, if somewhat guilty look.

"Would you?"

"Wouldn't offer if I wouldn't. High Reaches takes care of its own. We might quarrel – but that's internal. Solid front to an outsider, right?" T'lana put a friendly arm round the girl's shoulders and led her out into the late winter sunshine to face her mother.

oOoOo

Bellova's mother was effusive, but the girl managed to disentangle herself.

"Please mother" she said, "Not in front of everyone – it's embarrassing!"

"Darling, I've come to rescue you" declared her mother, dramatically. "You can leave all these horrid people right away!"

"I don't want to leave!" asseverated Bellova.

"But darling – the drum message! Ah, I see what it is – they've threatened you with punishment if you don't stay. I knew it!" she glared at the nonplussed T'bor. Bellova's little firelizard, Trel, hissed and chittered from under the girl's hair, eyes whirling. Absently Bellova stroked and cozened him. She shifted her feet in embarrassment.

"The message was a – a misunderstanding." She muttered.

"You mean they've punished you until you'll agree with what they say." The Holder's lady was strident and Bellova shook her head emphatically.

"_**Tell her you were upset over a broken romance"**_ suggested T'lana into the girl's thoughts. Bellova gave a little start but controlled it and looked directly at her mother.

"I was upset at the time." She said. "I'd been seeing someone – but it didn't go very far. I was really unhappy that it broke up." She added, "His dragon didn't like it, you see."

"_**Don't over-embellish"**_ admonished T'lana.

Bellova's mother stared at her daughter.

"I hope you're not getting into wicked weyr ways." She said severely.

"Oh no mother" lied Bellova. "That's partly what caused the misunderstanding that led to my romance breaking up."

Her mother snorted.

"My poor baby, ill used by some designing man!" she cried, enfolding Bellova against her bosom and dislodging Trel. "I was right to come to take you away before someone has their evil way with you!"

"Oh no, mother, it's not like that!" Cried Bellova in lively alarm. "No one forces their attentions on you – I, er, just hadn't learned the right signals" she extemporised hastily, grimacing at T'lana over her mother's shoulder as she added in a little girl voice, "Belle-baby was too much muvva's baby to understand the right responses, mummy dearest, but it's all cleared up now. He was very nice about it."

"There there, baby." Her mother stroked her hair. "Are you quite sure you don't want to come home?" she sounded surprised and somewhat aggrieved. "With all your nice clothes – what HAVE they made you wear?" she pushed Bellova away from her and held her at arms length to look at her. Bellova loved pretty clothes; but if no-one was taking any notice of her, she had discovered that tunic and trews were more comfortable.

"It's, er, more modest if you're making trips dragonback." She said hastily. "And yes, I do very much want to stay."

"Has mummy come all this way for nothing?" The saw like voice rose slightly again.

"On NO mummy, it's just too splendid to see you!" protested Bellova. T'lana stepped forward.

"Excuse me, lady, but perhaps after we have offered you hospitality and a chance to see round the Weyr, you could be saved an arduous journey home by runner if one of us gave you a lift dragonback. I'm sure my Queen would be happy to oblige." She added artfully. "And the runners could be led by your men." She flipped a hand in their direction. They looked hopeful; the Holder's lady was a trying travelling companion. The woman considered..

"Why, I think that would be very suitable, Weyrwoman." She almost purred, patting her hair into place in a self-satisfied way; and T'lana knew she was preening herself with thoughts of how to introduce the subject of having ridden a Queen dragon to her social circle.

oOoOo

"BELLE-BABY?" she asked Bellova later. The girl grimaced.

"Mother never noticed I got past the age of four." She admitted. Then she pulled a wry face. "I guess I didn't either until lately. I've been a pain. I'm sorry. I don't want to be like my mother."

T'lana laughed.

"Just think how much good my brutality did, then – rescuing you from such a fate." She said. Bellova chuckled, then sighed.

"I do love my mother." She said, defiantly.

"I should hope so – she loves you, even if all that effusion is a little embarrassing. Plenty of ranking women wouldn't have had the guts to trail through the mountains for their daughter, and I told her so when I flew her back. I just hope I did right when I urged you to, uh, prevaricate." She added worriedly. "It seemed the most comfortable way out to save face all round – but I don't like lying."

Bellova shrugged.

"It was a good story – and it had elements of truth. Breeneth didn't approve of me being with T'chal; and I WAS upset I couldn't make H'llon interested in me, even before he Impressed. Say, HOW did you tell me what to do?"

T'lana shrugged.

"It's an extension of being able to talk to dragons. I don't talk about it much, it makes some folk nervous. Only T'bor, R'gar and the other women riders know I do it."

"Thank you for sharing it with me!" said Bellova, actually touched.

"As to why you couldn't get H'llon – or rather Hallon – " said T'lana, grinning mischievously, "He was so naïve when he first got here that he thought that the sudden interest in woodworking by the available girls was genuine. He couldn't think why they lost interest in carving!"

Bellova laughed.

"Doesn't he use a mirror?" she asked.

"He's got no idea how good looking he is!" T'lana explained. "I never met anyone so modest!"

Bellova chuckled again and shook her head.

"Well I'll not have a look in now he has Melth." She sighed, smiling ruefully; and the two girls went off to supper together more amicably than either would have ever believed!


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Talana established 'Zairan' into Sagarra's room when 'Zakan' left.

"It has" said T'lana "The advantage of privacy. I was here when I first came to the Weyr and I managed to conceal the fact that I was a girl from everyone but Calla. Calla is," she added "remarkably perspicacious."

'Zairan' shot her a look.

"What are you implying?" She declared, a picture of wounded boyish dignity.

"I'm not implying a fardling thing." Asseverated T'lana. "I'm telling you that if you want to keep it secret you'll have to be circumspect. There's some breast bands in that chest, if you're careful you can hide curves by the way you put them on. I hope someone's already discussed the messy events that happen when you become a woman; if not, Pilgra or Calla or I will run through it and help you deal with it. If you want to talk about things, that's fine; if you don't that's fine too. I may be nosy but I'll not pry."

The girl was staring at her open mouthed. She got control of herself and said,

"If – I only say if, mind – if I was a girl I'd not be sent away?"

"Shards no. Least of all by me." Said T'lana. "Look, didn't your father tell you about Mirrith?"

The youngster nodded. T'lana continued,

"Well, I held onto my identity until she rose for the first time – more than two years. I had to come out of hiding then" she grinned "Because in a few months it would have been obvious. Not many pregnant lads around."

Zairan digested that.

"You wanted the baby then?" She asked. T'lana nodded emphatically.

"Female riders don't have that many breeding years so I wanted babies while I still could. Pilgra came forward 400 turns and she's sterile – it's so sad, she's a wonderful mother to her fosterlings. It's such an irony that Kylara who didn't want children had five, and Pilgra can't have any!"

"You seem to love Pilgra!" The child was surprised.

"Of course. Everyone loves Pilgra. It goes beyond the special relationship bronzes and their riders have. She's more or less what they had in mind when they invented the idea of Weyrwomen."

"Oh!" Said Zairan. "I sort of had the idea that senior Weyrwomen were bossy and bitchy and all other Weyrwomen hated them and schemed against them."

"Shards, you've got your ideas from somewhere pretty peculiar." Said T'lana. "What could have given you that idea? Benden's fine – Lessa's abrasive but Ramoth's a sweetie and the other two Queenriders, Talina and Celina are fairly placid anyway. Margatta at Fort's all right if a bit impulsive and Vanira there just likes a quiet life and I don't know the young one – Selienth's rider, Prilla I think she's called but I've heard nothing untoward. That accounts for all the places with modern Queenriders or younger Oldtimers like Pilgra." She paused. "Bedella's a fool of course and R'mart needs to handle her carefully, but he has his own prejudices. We do not get on that well with Telgar Weyr. " She explained. "T'bor's intolerant of intolerance. As to Ista and Igen – well, I know nothing about them, but such riders as I've met with are pretty stable; and I guess that friction between Queens and their riders would soon unsettle a Weyr." She stared at Zairan, sudden enlightenment on her face.

"But the friction between Merika and Mardra must be something else." She said thoughtfully. "And T'kul is not the sort of man to have a nubile daughter near."

"I thought you said you didn't pry." Zairan scowled.

"I don't – but if you make off the cuff comments about relationships that don't seem to add up, I'm scarcely going to stop logicating things out, am I?" asked T'lana, reasonably.

"Logicating? What sort of word is that – Weyrwoman?" She added, hastily.

"The new art of solving problems and mysteries. There was no word for it. After the Pass is over I want to set up a Crafthall for it. Crimes go unpunished if criminals can't be caught – and we do have to face the problems of those of Fax's and Meron's men who don't feel like returning to the hardship of honest toil and choose instead the uncertainty of banditry." She shrugged. "And people, being people, rarely manage to live close together in total harmony. Sometimes something snaps and murder is committed. Usually it's straightforward and the Holder apportions blame according to circumstance. Sometimes however people go to great lengths to cover up their crimes and then they call me in." she grinned. "You're welcome to join the team. We practice by working out all we can about harmless strangers."

"So what did you – logicate – about my father?" her tone was disbelieving.

"He's a Brown rider who has been Threadscored fairly recently; he has duelled, and he is concerned for your safety. He has not lost his dragon, who I presume is in control of your firelizards right now. He is bitter about something; and he trained as a Smithcrafter before Impression. He is, of course, an Oldtimer."

The girl stared at her, her face flushed.

"How do you figure all that?" She cried, disconcerted.

"There are many clues about his status. His muscle arrangement; his familiarity with dragons; and his skill with leatherwork. We all see to our own straps. None of these things is enough in itself but pretty suggestive all put together. Also he smells of dragon. Not female dragon – so he's not a Green rider. Not a Bronze dragon, which has a sharpness to the musk. But he's too arrogant to be a Blue rider – discounting R'cal who's a law unto himself – so I figure Brown. He's obviously skilled with metalwork; but the patterns he uses are unusual. Unusual because they're from a different era. That plus the tan – I took it at first for being weather-beaten – indicates an Oldtimer. That's confirmed by your attitudes concerning Queenriders. His neck is Threadscored and he holds his arm stiffly. I suggest that it's more likely to be a knife wound to the tendon than Threadscoring. I suggest it was a fight over you."

'Zairan' was staring open eyed in horror.

"What – what are you going to do?" She asked fearfully. T'lana blinked at her, surprised.

"Do? Whatever do you mean, child?" We'll keep you safe like he wanted, and put you to egg when there's a clutch. I suppose he felt he couldn't trust us with the truth" she said sadly. "T'kul must be really bad. For him to mistrust us too."

"He's HORRIBLE!" declared the girl. "He makes me feel dirty."

T'lana nodded.

"Pilgra fosters two children he fathered forcibly on holder women. Poor little girls, totally unloved." Tears stood in her eyes of anger and grief for the harm done to the children.

"How do you figure my firelizards?" Asked Zairan, interested despite herself.

"Sharper, spicy smell. Also you conceal food; and there are clear scratches on the shoulder of your jerkin. They've been visiting you when you think we can't see. I suppose they're the strange three who have been sitting over the hatching cavern."

"You can tell firelizards that aren't yours?"

"No big deal. Anyone can train themselves to observe. Your queen and two blues look unlike any of the residents." She added, "If you feel like telling me your name it would be nice."

"Zaira". She said abruptly, adding "Weyrwoman."

"We're not too formal here" T'lana told her gently. "I arrived without formal designation and I'm variously known as Talana, T'lana and T'lan from my days disguised as a boy Green rider. Most of my friends stick to T'lan and so does T'bor: but I'm otherwise mostly known as T'lana. You can call me that."

Zaira digested this. She had already started to realise that High Reaches was not at all like the Southern Weyr she had left – nor at all as T'kul and Merika had described it under their tenure. Her father too had been surprised at the openness and friendliness. She thought he was regretting accompanying T'ron when he was banished.

"Please – you won't tell anyone?"

"I'll tell my mate, R'gar – I tell him everything. I'd not tell anyone else if you don't wish it. But my dear, the logicating team has already worked most of it out. And besides, it doesn't matter here. You can be a boy or a girl as you choose, no one will interfere. The dragons will pick what colour you Impress. If you don't want anyone to know your background, that's fine; but no one will carp or cavil about it if they do know. At least" she added grimly "They'll answer to me if they do."

"I want to keep it to myself." The girl said stubbornly.

"Fine. But do feed your fardling lizards openly. That way you can be sure and give them proper care. And the smaller blue needs oiling." Declared T'lana; and nodding at the stupefied girl, left her to it.

oOoOo

T'lana sat on Mirrith's ledge, legs a-dangle, ignoring the drop as she watched her beloved dragon in the bowl showing off with Merry. They had devised a trick between them and were trying it out. Mirrith yawned, and Merry flew full tilt into her cavernous mouth as she shut it with an audible snap – to the horrified gasps from onlookers and a few cries of

"Mirrith – NO!"

There were then sounds of apparently struggling firelizard and Merry emerged with apparent effort and a few artistic grunts from under Mirrith's tail fork as though she had come from the anal exit. She emerged with a loud 'POP!' perfectly mimicked from an opening wine bottle and sat on Mirrith's tail looking smug.

"Foolishness." Said R'gar behind T'lana. She knew her lover well enough to realise he had suffered a moment's horror as Merry disappeared in Mirrith's mouth and turned to smile at him.

"Sure it's foolishness, but it keeps them happy." She said. "Never knew that dragons – or lizards – had such a, er, BASIC sense of humour."

R'gar grunted.

"So long as people don't get the idea that Mirrith really does eat firelizards."

"I'd have thought that with Merry playing games it's going to enhance firelizard trust – and that of their owners." Supplied T'lana.

"And it's undignified for a Queen" he protested. She laughed and scrambled up to press herself against him.

"Mirrith and I are an undignified pair." She said. "And with luck you're going to undignify me some more."

R'gar gave up and applied himself assiduously to the task of losing dignity happily with his weyrmate.

oOoOo

Over the next few days, young Zaira graduated towards H'llon, largely because of his firelizards, but also because he felt a safe sort of person. She had worked out that he was one of the logicators, and probably therefore knew her gender, which made her a little shy: but his unfailingly gentle courtesy soon had her at her ease.

"It's no surprise you have so many firelizards, Bronze Rider" she said. He smiled.

"I answer to H'llon you know, kid." He said. "How do you figure that?"

"You've got kind eyes." She told him. H'llon laughed.

"The would-be bullies don't think so." He said grimly. "Now R'gar's made me a weyrling second I've the authority to deal with troublesome brats."

"Did that stop you before?" She asked, certain she already knew the answer!

"No, not really. I hate people who pick on those smaller and weaker than themselves. Being built like a Hold door I don't usually have to do more than mention that fact though." He grinned. "And I can afford to fight fair. Unlike our T'lan." He added.

"T'lana? She's really kind."

"Sure – but she's also small and started off as a natural target for bullies. Consequently she learned to fight in the school of hard knocks and any dirty tricks she doesn't know haven't been thought up yet. She fights far more viciously than a big guy like me has to! I guess she'd teach you a few tricks if you asked her." He added thoughtfully.

"Maybe I will." She said. "I do have my firelizards to protect me."

H'llon petted Peep, who was butting her headknob against his hand insistently.

"They are so loving." His eyes grew soft. "I am so lucky to have them."

"Where did they come from?" She asked, ingenuously. He chuckled.

"Nice fishing." He acknowledged. "I'm not totally sure of the location; so I can't really say exactly. But they were a wild clutch." H'llon had no idea where in Southern grew the ironwood he had been to investigate with R'cal; so he was not lying. However he knew the need for discretion, and though he liked Zaira he felt he should not say too much. He added, "They were so hungry – and so many of them! R'cal and V'gion Impressed some of the others. And they're so beautiful!"

"Yes" she agreed. "I'd not be without Melody, Lyric and Tempo."

"Harper names for Harper Blue?"

"Yes – that and the fact that they sing!" She grinned.

H'llon reflected that when she smiled no one could ever mistake her for a boy. She had some of the gamine charm of T'lan, but a mop of golden curls and enormous blue-violet eyes did little to enhance the illusion she sought. She really was too pretty to be out loose unprotected; and H'llon vowed silently that he would protect her.

oOoOo

It was Zaira, desiring to do something for T'lana, who found out that the young queenrider had no personal drudge – requesting one had never occurred to her – and took up the matter with Keerana.

"You're not volunteering yourself while waiting for a clutch?" Keerana twinkled. Zaira pulled a face.

"I don't mind hefting blackrock and firestone; or checking glows: but cleaning is not my strong point." She said. "Keeping my own place in order is enough, thank you."

"You've that in common with the boys anyhow." Commented Keerana, leaving Zaira wondering if there was anyone in the Weyr who did NOT know she was a girl!

oOoOo

Jenara approached the double weyr a little nervously. She had volunteered to be T'lana's personal drudge out of respect for the girl; for T'lana was unfailingly courteous and unassuming and had even been taken aback at the suggestion that as a Queenrider she was entitled to her own drudge. She had been really pleasant to Jenara when she had volunteered and had thanked her for her offer with obviously genuine gratitude. The young woman smiled to herself, remembering the quick, pleased smile of the little weyrwoman that someone should ask to serve her.

Jenara had brought a bunch of flowers with her to brighten up T'lana's room. She hoped they would be cheering to one so young with so many responsibilities. First, however, she had to pass through Laranth's weyr. She put her head through the entrance; both dragons dozed there, necks entwined.

"Um…" she said, deeply awed as always in the presence of these magnificent creatures. "Do – do you mind if I go through? I- I'm going to clean."

Mirrith lifted her head and regarded the young woman curiously. She saw a voluptuous blonde girl in her early twenties with an attractive, character filled face and deep respect in her green eyes. Mirrith inclined her head imperiously; and Laranth grunted, sounding so much like R'gar that Jenara had to hide a smile behind her hand. She walked through and into the room which had been R'gar's and which he now used solely as a day room and office. The sleeping room was beyond and up a short flight of neatly cut steps, opening into Mirrith's own weyr beyond that. Both dragons frequently tended to share a weyr especially in inclement weather when they welcomed each other's body warmth. Jenara started work, absently singing as she did so.

oOoOo

T'lana was very moved by the flowers which Jenara scrupulously renewed; and embarrassed the older girl by giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek one day when she bumped into her leaving their apartments.

"Thank you for the flowers." Said T'lana sincerely. "They make the room smell sweet as well as being pretty. R'gar and I are such plain folks in our furnishings."

"I hoped they'd be nice, weyrwoman." Jenara was pink with pleasure.

"Mirrith likes your singing too." T'lana told her. Jenara blushed.

"I – I hadn't thought I would disturb the dragons!" She stuttered. T'lana tutted.

"Disturb, nothing. Didn't I tell you Mirrith likes it? And so" she added "Does Laranth or you'd have heard about it from him." She grinned. "Old Grumpy has to maintain his reputation for having few good words for anyone, though. Especially" she twinkled wickedly "since there are rumours abroad that R'gar has been known to smile without his face cracking in two."

Jenara laughed a little self-consciously. Holdbred, she had asked to come to the Weyr as a drudge to be near and serve magnificent dragons - she was too modest to ask to be taken on Search – and she was a little uncomfortable about riders talking about their dragons as though they were ordinary people. And Laranth was not even T'lana's dragon.

T'lana picked up on Jenara's shocked mien and added,

"Laranth and R'gar were my first friends when I came lonely and frightened to the Weyr. We tease each other – as best friends can." She smiled; and Jenara smiled back.

oOoOo

When Daenilth rose, there was never any question but that Shath would fly her. T'kil had been nervous from the moment her colour changed, afraid of hurting the crippled Sh'rilla in dragonlust. R'gar gainsaid his fears.

"You and she are used to each other's bodies" he said bluntly. "It may give her some bruises but no worse. She is at least a well-built girl." T'kil grinned.

"Not like our T'lan the first time." He said.

R'gar gave him a Look.

oOoOo

H'llon was glad that Melth was not old enough to rise for Daenilth. He was still adapting to casual weyr attitudes; as well as being craftbred he had a tendency towards prudery born of being a late developer where appreciation of women was concerned and not well versed in flirtation and love play. M'kel teased him gently, but H'llon was horrified when told that a disappointed contender in a flight was often fair game for unattached women and a popular man could end up waking up with three or four women.

"Being the lover of a Bronze rider is a status symbol." M'kel told him. "So that may influence some girls. Of course there are plenty who chasing you anyway."

"ARE there?" H'llon was genuinely surprised. His amorous encounters to date had been tentative and rather short-lived. The girls had seemed not to be interested in becoming friends too or to be looking for commitment. M'kel laughed.

"Of course, Wherry brain, that's one of the reasons Bellova hated you so. You spurned her."

"SPURNED? M'kel you're joshing. I did nothing of the sort." H'llon was indignant.

"It was how she saw your utter innocence m'lad."

"I think I resent that."

"Oh Bronze rider, sorry, Bronze rider!" quipped M'kel.

"Stuff it, M'kel." Even teasing, H'llon was uncomfortable about the fact that he was perceived to be of exalted rank purely through Impressing Melth. M'kel understood: and he said softly,

"It takes someone out of the ordinary to be any kind of dragonrider; but only the best get picked by Bronze dragonets. Melth's a big lad, H'llon. One day you'll be a Weyrleader. And I'll be glad to serve under you."

H'llon was taken aback: and M'kel did not push it.

oOoOo

Bellova approached T'lana when she and R'gar emerged from enjoying the backwash of Daenilth's emotion.

"What does she want?" Growled R'gar, less than pleased.

"She's settling down." Declared his lover tranquilly.

"I wish I knew how you tame these fardling women." R'gar referred to the fact that L'rilly and T'lana were now the best of friends after a most inauspicious start.

"I do NOT!" Playfully she pummelled him and he laughed. Bellova watched, wistfully. They argued incessantly, these lovers, yet she had learned to perceive the deep bond between them, a bond only scarcely less strong than Impression.

T'lana stopped hitting R'gar as Bellova wavered in her approach, afraid of intruding, and called,

"Can I do something for you, lass?"

Bellova nodded, hesitantly. T'lana joined the girl, and R'gar headed for the kitchen.

"What is it?" T'lana asked, surprised by the girl's unaccustomed diffidence.

"Please – I would like to try for a Green dragon in Daenilth's clutch. If she doesn't lay a Queen. And even if she does." She blurted out. T'lana dropped a companionable arm across her shoulders.

"I'm glad of that." She said gravely. "I'm glad you want to be a dragonrider – not a decoration."

Bellova flushed.

"Yes I do want to be a dragonrider." She said. "And if not – I'd like to be a dragonhealer. Only –only I'm scared of R'gar." She added in a rush. T'lana grinned.

"I'll tell you a secret" she said, bending close to whisper. "So's Pilgra!"

"Surely not! Pilgra's senior Weyrwoman – she's not afraid of anything!" Bellova was shocked. T'lana grinned.

"He certainly makes her nervous. Lassie, R'gar is fierce enough with weyrlings because weyrlings need to be chivvied into learning the lessons that may one day save their lives. He can also be gentle and compassionate with the lads that need it" briefly she outlined the story of her own arrival at the Weyr, and Bellova pondered deeply. "He'll be delighted that you've cone to love dragons enough to want to heal them" T'lana added.

"I do love dragons. At first it was just for the status: but I never felt nervous of them. I mean, when my brooch fell in Breeneth's ear" she blushed hotly "We were, er, on his neck…"

T'lana chuckled.

"I can't see Laranth permitting that." She said. "He's a pompous so-and-so at times. Breeneth's an old softy."

Bellova smiled tentatively.

oOoOo

T'lana recounted the conversation to R'gar later; and he snorted.

"Laranth would NEVER put up with such liberties!" he declared.

Jenara, eavesdropping despite her better judgement, agreed. She was quite angry with Bellova for her cavalier attitude towards dragons – but at least the girl had improved. And at least she seemed to love the magnificent creatures.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

It was to T'lana's satisfaction that she acquired a positive identification for the stranger Zakan by showing around the pictures that Geriana had drawn of him and his daughter. N'ton among others had recognised him as Z'kan, Brown Adeth's rider. N'ton did not remember a daughter, but as he said, he'd have been unlikely to have met her. Oldtimers who had stayed at Fort described him as a bit of a loner, proud and loyal. He had argued frequently with T'ron and they had been surprised that he had not stayed. They suggested that only a sense of duty to the Weyrleader had taken him to Southern. It fitted with T'lana's surmise; and she doubted not that he was having trouble with the Southern Weyrleaders.

oOoOo

Zaira had gone to H'llon's workshop – she felt safe and relaxed there – only to find him cursing and swearing and clearing up a mess that looked as though a hurricane had hit the room. His lizards and apprentices were helping.

"What happened?" She asked. H'llon snorted.

"Melth got nosy and stuck his head in the door before I could say him nay." He complained. "There was a lot of sawdust about and the silly fool started sneezing. How much damage he'll be capable of doing when he's grown the first egg only knows."

Zaira managed not to laugh. The concept of Melth sneezing a disaster was amusing, as was H'llon's appearance. His clothes, hair and eyebrows were full of sawdust, and a spiral of plane shaving hung like an earring from one ear. She set to with a will, helping to clear up the mess while Melth rumbled contritely outside, snuffling uncomfortably from time to time. H'llon went out to scratch his eyebrows.

"You duzzy great idiot" he said lovingly. "Are you all right?"

"_You did ask that before"_ replied Melth. _"I am quite all right but my nose tickles. I think I'm going to…"_

H'llon was blown off his feet by a gargantuan dragon sneeze and this time Zaira could not conceal her laughter. H'llon sat for a moment looking dazed; then he joined in with a deep if rueful guffaw.

"_Are you cross with me?"_ asked Melth, plaintively.

"No, darling Melth, how could I be cross with you? Just please! Check in future that it's safe for you to come in!" Soothed H'llon.

oOoOo

Zaira was happy to spend much of her free time in H'llon's workshop. She got on pretty well with Radall, Telfer and Elissa, especially when she evinced an interest in logicating. She gave up the pretence of being a boy there: there seemed little point when no one seemed at all taken in. However, she managed her front to the Weyr in general, as the logicators seemed happy enough to keep their deductions to themselves. She did flee to T'lan, fighting back tears, when a Blue rider made a rather determined pass at her: and after giving her a cuddle and some klah, T'lana went and Spoke to the man. He duly apologised to 'Zairan' making excuse that his dragon had been disappointed in a mating flight and his blood was up. She forgave him; but made sure she spent more time in the company of people she trusted, which largely meant the logicators.

oOoOo

Spring progressed and H'llon and Melth were soon engrossed in practising flying. Zaira proposed a picnic in the mountains and H'llon concurred cheerfully with her idea. It was plain that she was used to dragons and made no difficulty of scrambling onto Melth's half-grown neck. She seemed quite happy listening to H'llon explaining all of Melth's virtues, how clever he was at chewing firestone and how excited they both were at the thought of flying **Between** for the first time. In return, she confided in him about her father's reasons for hiding her, his fears that T'kul would leave her alone no longer, and his ties of loyalty having sworn to follow T'ron anywhere before the shift forward in time. She explained that she was, technically, an Oldtimer herself since she had come forward as a foetus. Most young children had been fostered around and left in the Old Time as too young; young Weyrlings had been sent to Benden with no explanation since only dragons who could go **between** could come. There were thus few enough younger Oldtimers on Southern, and none who were Zaira's contemporaries. H'llon read between the lines of the lonely existence of a motherless child – the long time **between **they came forward having forced the birthing and killed the unfortunate woman – fostered unwillingly by a variety of Oldtimer women, jealous of having lost their own young ones and the ability to have others. She had little enough idea of how to be a child, but her sojourn at High Reaches was teaching her how to relate to other youngsters, delighting as she was in the companionship and comradeship of the logicators. H'llon's heart went out to the lonely waif and he became even more determined to look after her!

oOoOo

Daenilth duly and without any fuss laid thirty-four eggs, settling once and for all the question of Mirrith's ability to lay fertile eggs. Z'kan turned up thereafter to visit and see how his 'son' was settling; and T'lana reckoned that he must have his runners stabled snug in a nearby cave, probably with some holdless paid to take care of them. She met the man with a nod and a smile, and said,

"She's out helping H'llon and his apprentices collect wood. Don't you think it would be easier if you flew in on Adeth? The subterfuge must be arduous."

He spluttered.

"HOW? –Did she tell you?"

T'lana shook her head.

"No. I worked it out from your own clues. Then armed with a sketch of you I was able to find out Adeth's name from people who knew you. Some of them could even remember your name too!" She twinkled.

"I didn't think I'd left any clues." He was chagrined as well as concerned. T'lana grinned at him and explained her deductive reasoning. He listened, shaken and astonished.

"I did not realise it was possible to apply reason like that." He said. "What are you intending to do?"

"Put the child to egg, of course. And ask if you wanted to return north and join us at High Reaches."

"You wouldn't want to send her back?"

"To T'kul's tender mercies? You have to be kidding." She snorted. "That man's so convinced he's the greatest gift to women that ever lived it never occurs to him that some of them do mean 'no' when they say it."

He let out a sigh of relief.

"You have my gratitude – both for protecting her and for giving her the chance to Impress. As to myself, I swore an oath to follow T'ron anywhere before we came forward. I can't betray that oath."

T'lana nodded and laid a hand on his arm.

"I honour you for that." She said. "For he – you – all the Oldtimers – saved us. I only marvel at why some have seemingly turned their backs on honour."

He shrugged.

"I cannot explain it. Perhaps it is because the people of today treat Dragonmen with a more cavalier attitude than we were used to; perhaps it is the years of fighting Thread with no surcease. Perhaps it is merely jealousy of F'lar, whose name is praised everywhere as the ideal dragonman."

T'lana chuckled.

"Yet they praise and curse him by turn." She said. "People are fickle; and those who hold power also carry responsibility and are thus easy to blame."

He looked thoughtful.

"Well" he said abruptly, "I'm glad my daughter did not tell you everything. I did not think she would, but for a moment…"

"She's a loyal child" T'lana told him. "But she's virtually given up worrying about concealing her gender. She's too pretty to be a boy."

"She's had no trouble?"

"Nothing she or I couldn't handle. She'll be home soon and you can ask her yourself. Then you might as well ask Adeth in and stop hiding who you are. We'll be glad to have you as a guest."

"Are you crazy? We're forbidden to come north. T'bor…"

"T'bor won't make a fuss. And what we don't tell F'lar, he'll not fret over either. If no one makes an issue of where you are from, no one will ask. T'bor has the good common sense to know when asking questions is a bad idea."

He laughed ruefully.

"Do you run everyone here?"

"No – but Pilgra's one of my dearest friends; and she does. She's not one to follow rules for the sake of it."

oOoOo

Z'kan had a lot to digest; and he took himself off to do so while he awaited the return of his daughter. He raised an eyebrow seeing that it was the nosy young Bronze rider with so many woodcraft acquaintances who was leading this expedition: and raised them still further when the physical deformities of two of his apprentices became apparent. The third shock was that one of his apprentices was a girl. Zaira however seemed to be on excellent terms with all of them, and Z'kan's jealous fatherly eye saw nothing untoward in H'llon's treatment of her. Indeed the lad seemed most protective! Z'kan strolled over, and Zaira's face lit up with pleasure.

"Father! How good to see you. Come and meet my friends!"

She took him by the hand and proceeded to introduce him to H'llon, Radall, Telfer and Elissa with a brief potted history of each. Z'kan greeted them gravely.

"I take it you are the core of these – logicators – she called you all I think," he said. H'llon grinned.

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid we are."

Z'kan grunted.

"If you know everything about me, you don't go calling me 'sir', Bronze rider." He growled.

"I was brought up to respect experience before all else." H'llon told him, a little stiffly. "I personally find that being accorded respect for Impressing Melth when I've not even flown Thread is rather ridiculous. However, we could compromise and go by High Reaches custom of using first names?"

Z'kan had bristled slightly at the customs he was used to being called 'ridiculous' – no one could accuse H'llon of being versed in tact – but the young man's obvious discomfort at being shown undue respect by a man far more experienced than he made the older man warm to him, and he took the proffered hand.

"Z'kan" he said. H'llon grinned, and he added "But of course you know that."

"H'llon, Weyrwoodcrafter." H'llon supplied. "That I HAVE earned."

Z'kan grunted again.

"Well you know I'm craftbred myself. I respect your skills and achievements."

Zaira heaved an audible sigh.

"You two are being so STUFFY you know!" She complained. "Like two Queens meeting for the first time!"

H'llon and Z'kan exchanged a look and both laughed.

"Well, lad, shall we talk about something safe like your crafting?" Asked Z'kan with a lopsided grin.

"Come into my workshop and I'll break out the good stuff that Elissa's mother made." H'llon suggested. "That'll break down any reserve and we can get to know each other properly. I've been looking forward to it – when Zaira speaks of you, it's plain you're a man worth knowing."

H'llon was so plainly guileless that Z'kan was touched and he willingly went along with the woodcrafter.

oOoOo

L'rilly had done some of the running about with pictures of Z'kan; she pretended that logicating was a bit beneath her, but was actually fascinated. She had spent a lot of her life being rather obsessed with her own image – largely the fault of trying to live up to the expectations of her parents – and now that she had grown up and had become less self absorbed was noticing things about other people for the first time. She remarked as much to T'lana, who hugged her.

"People are such fun" T'lana told her. "Seeing the way they react to various stimuli – er, circumstances" she amended hastily as L'rilly gave her a Look. T'lana's interest in things mathematical was not universally shared and L'rilly knew nothing and cared less about population statistics! T'lana added, "And when it's really fun is if you've predicted right what someone is going to do, or has done. Using statistics I can assign probabilities to particular types of people…"

L'rilly thumped her and T'lana laughed.

"You and your statistics" L'rilly grinned. "You can be almost as irritating as D're."

"Ah?" Said T'lana mildly, and L'rilly scowled.

"The man is ubiquitous! Whenever I turn round he's there. I don't want to have anything to do with him!"

"Then why does he seem to come into your conversation so often?" Asked T'lana shrewdly. L'rilly burned and shook her head.

"I don't know!" she wailed. "He – he just GETS to me!"

Her friend patted her on the shoulder.

"Can't you try to get to know him without letting your prejudices about the Holdless stand in the way?" She asked mildly. L'rilly shook her head.

"I have tried! Only whenever I try to have a conversation with him, he says something stupid or suggestive and I ache to slap him!"

T'lana sighed.

"Have you considered that he wants so hard to please you that he just gets nervous and says something daft?" She asked.

"It's not that at all! He does it a-purpose to annoy me!" Declared L'rilly. "He says he likes to see me angry because it makes me more beautiful!"

"It certainly gives you a lot of animation." Concurred T'lana. "I think he's trying to find out what makes you YOU if you see what I mean."

"No I don't." Groused L'rilly.

"I am sure it will all work out eventually, you know." T'lana reassured her.

"T'lan, that's just like you. You're such an optimist!" L'rilly complained. T'lana shrugged.

"One of us has to be."

oOoOo

D're had not meant to eavesdrop; it just happens to be human nature to prick up the ears when one's own name is mentioned, he told himself. And of course the old adage of eavesdroppers never hearing any good of themselves certainly was true! Still, he comforted himself, she's certainly not indifferent to me. D're had just taken possession of the little wooden bronze dragon he had asked H'llon to carve for him; and although it seemed that L'rilly was out of charity with him, she was rarely in favour of his presence so now seemed as good a time as any to give it to her. He went to her weyr and called in,

"L'rilly – a quick word if you please?"

She appeared at the entrance and looked down at him.

"What do you want?" she asked ungraciously.

"Before I Impressed Esruth" his face softened as he spoke and L'rilly surprised herself thinking how handsome he was "I asked H'llon to make something – because I didn't think I'd ever have a real Bronze dragon to offer you. I'd like you to have it anyway." He thrust a packet at her. Startled, L'rilly took it and as he gazed up unwrapped it.

"OH!" she exclaimed "He – he's charming!" She turned to glare at him suspiciously. "Why?"

D're shrugged.

"Bothered if I know." He said. "After all, you've not given me any encouragement. I guess a sane man'd have left off long ago. But you've often called me a fool. And sometimes you laugh at my foolishness."

L'rilly made a non-committal noise.

"You are a fool." She stated. "You spend all your time needling me. How's that to make me think you might like me?"

"I just love the way your eyes spark. And when you blush it's so pretty. Folks say Weyrwomen can't blush but you can.."

L'rilly blushed and scowled.

"Only when you make me you-you Runner-dung!" she said. "What's your game anyway? You ought to have realised by now that just because someone is a Weyrwoman doesn't mean she'll roll in the hay with just anyone!"

"I should hope not!" He sounded indignant. "I was rather hoping that you'd confine yourself to rolling in the hay – and other things – with me!"

L'rilly stamped her foot, and almost threw the exquisite wooden dragon at him. However she managed to gather the tattered remnants of her dignity around her and stalked wordlessly into her weyr.

"Blew that, D're you fool" the man muttered to himself. "Why by the Red Star does she bring out the worst in me?" He decided to try again.

"L'rilly!" He called. There was a muffled,

"Go AWAY!"

D're cogitated.

"D'you know" he called "I can't win here. You'll be angry if I stay – and peeved if I take you at your word and go. I'm coming in."

There was a shriek of anger as he strode into her weyr, making light of the steps with his wooden leg. He jerked L'rilly into his arms, heedless of her protests or the angry scolding of Bubbles and Zammo, telling Tamalenth

"Let me try this Tammy old girl before you lose your rag too."

Tamalenth was not happy; but her rider's feelings about D're were so confused the young Queen hung back. D're looked down into L'rilly's face, reflecting mixed feelings of fury and arousal.

"I always lose when we're talking" he said grimly "So let's try it with your mouth otherwise occupied." And he kissed her thoroughly. L'rilly struggled in a rather half-hearted way but at last he felt her respond and give up the fight. He lifted his head and looked down at her, his hands tightening on her arms. She looked up at him and a tear trickled down her face. He wiped it away with one finger.

"I guess it's too soon after Sh'allen" he said, surprising her with the gentleness in his tone. "It's all right – I'm going now. But Queenrider! I'm staking my claim – and Esruth's."

Abruptly he let go of her, and L'rilly half sat, half fell onto her sleeping couch, dazed at the intensity of feeling in his eyes and voice. As he left she spoke his name; and he turned.

"I'll wait until you want me, L'rilly" he said, his voice raw "But I know you'd regret it if I stayed now. And I don't trust myself, my pretty." He turned and left hurriedly, and L'rilly buried her head in her hands wondering how she felt. Tamalenth's head intruded into the inner cavern making soothing noises and L'rilly shook herself and devoted herself to rubbing the young Queen's eyebrow ridges.

oOoOo

T'lan, who always knew everything that was happening in the Weyr through her ability to hear all dragons came to find her friend. L'rilly hugged her and sobbed, as much from anger and confusion as any other reason. T'lana bore it stoically; L'rilly had always been inclined to an excess of emotion. It was just as well that Tamalenth was by nature rather placid – a stabilising influence on the pair.

"I WANTED him, T'lan" wailed L'rilly.

"Well what's wrong with that? Have him!" said T'lana, puzzled. L'rilly shook her head.

"It's not that simple!" She snuffled. "I mean I REALLY want him. He pulls me apart and I'm so afraid it's going to hurt dreadfully afterwards!"

T'lana held her friend, stroking her hair. At last they were near the whole truth. L'rilly amended,

"And he's not like all the people I know. He's not SAFE and he –he's wild and – and so unconventional!"

T'lana counted to twenty slowly before she spoke, in a controlled and soothing tone.

"L'rilly, dear one, you've not felt this way about people who are safe and conventional. Don't you think that's what attracts you to him? The fact that he's ready to love you regardless of who and what you might be and damn any obstacles others might set up?"

L'rilly sobbed,

"And when he's won and had me, he'll walk away! And what sort of father would he be anyway?"

"And what sort of mother would you be?" asked T'lana bluntly. If L'rilly was thinking babies she really was serious about D're! L'rilly hung her head.

"Not like you or Pilgra" she mumbled. "I'd foster out – but – but I'd like to have a baby before it's too late!"

"Well now, you just listen to me, L'rilly!" T'lana gave the girl a little shake. "If you were thinking of getting D're to father a child, he'd need to know about it – and if you ask me, he'd be a fardling good father! Look at the care he took of all his waifs and strays! As to leaving you – well, the way he looks at you isn't a man in lust, stalking difficult prey. It's the way R'gar looks at me – and don't you go wasting it, girl, we only get something like that once in a lifetime if we're lucky! And he's a Bronze rider – so he can even be with you for that, excepting the next time!"

L'rilly nodded at T'lana's words though she continued to snuffle miserably. However by now the gist seemed to be that someone else would fly her and Tamalenth next time because Esruth wouldn't be big enough. T'lana tried not to sigh audibly and spoke to her volatile friend in a calm reasonable tone.

"L'rilly – D're's a big boy. Yes, in more ways than one, you're thinking of him saying that, so let the smirk out. It's better for you than howling. He understands the ways things have to be in Weyrs, he'll not hold it against you that someone has to fly Tamalenth. It's the way it's always been. And it's not as though you're inexperienced, or that you don't know all the Bronze riders. Shards, it'll probably be Ragath – you LIKE L'gani, and you and he have been together before. And if you explain to him before she next rises, he'll be sensitive afterwards." T'lana felt she was talking herself hoarse; but her calm tones were getting through to L'rilly who nodded, a little damply.

"You're always so irritatingly Right, T'lan" she sighed. "I'm sorry – I'll try to keep control of myself. It just isn't FAIR!"

T'lana hid her smile. She doubted that L'rilly could categorise just WHAT was not fair! However, it did look as though the situation was going to resolve itself; and all she, T'lana could do was to let matters take their course and leave well alone now!

oOoOo

L'rilly herself sought out D're the next day. He was hitched up on one buttock on H'llon's workbench, talking to the woodcrafter and Z'kan. He was telling a lewdly improbable tale about a Holder lady and three harpers; and H'llon was burning, glad he'd sent the youngsters away. Z'kan guffawed at the punch line, and L'rilly almost lost her resolve; but D're looked up and caught her eye: and she saw him pale under his tan. He got up quickly and limped out to her, gazing down at her intently. She flushed and dropped her eyes, and tried to speak casually.

"You know of course that Tamalenth will probably rise again before Esruth is adult?"

She felt him stiffen beside her, but he spoke calmly enough.

"Aye, for sure I'd figured that. I may be a fool but I'm not an idiot."

"I expect Ragath will fly her. She likes him and I like L'gani."

"He'll treat you well. I like L'gani too, fardles take him."

She looked up at the intense emotion in that last curse. It was a mistake: his eyes held hers and she felt her heart quicken and her breath come raggedly. He took her hand; and she did not pull it away.

"Pretty, I can't stand by while another man is with my woman." He said. "I'll keep my distance until after Tamalenth rises again. I thought I could handle it – but when you look at me like that, I find I can't." His grip on her hand tightened. "I never felt like this before" he tried to laugh but it was a rather shaky sound. "Me, the love 'em and leave 'em type, to be sure, and I've been caught by a fire-breathing lady I should well avoid!"

"I'm GLAD!" She said fiercely. "D're. You make sure you're around after Tamalenth rises, or scorch it, I'll scorch you!"

He didn't kiss he there in the bowl as she was half-afraid and half-hopeful that he might do; but the look he exchanged with her might just as well have been a kiss. Then he turned on his heel and strode limping away.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

It was Jenara who rather tentatively approached L'rilly.

"Please, Weyrwoman" she said timidly "I hope you won't think I'm being impudent but, well, it's difficult not to hear a lot of what goes on…"

L'rilly worked hard on not scowling at the diffident girl she knew T'lana had grown fond of.

"Come to the point, Jenara" she said a little waspishly. Jenara flushed.

"I – I heard that if there is a full complement of dragons in a Weyr, then the Queens don't rise as often – especially if their riders don't want them to. Jora…" she was interrupted by an effusive L'rilly hugging and kissing her.

"You're right!" She cried. "Scorch it, why didn't one of us remember it? Jenara, you DARLING!"

Jenara flushed deep red and muttered something about being easy to remember things if you weren't caught up in a situation. L'rilly was ecstatic; and promised herself that she would do something nice for Jenara just as soon as she could think of something!

oOoOo

D're was dubious when she burst in on him in a whirlwind.

"Surely if you're, ah, engaged, it'll stimulate your dragon?" he asked.

"Didn't stop Jora I don't think. But Nemorth rarely rose. So long as I keep Tamalenth interested in waiting for Esruth we're home and dry!"

"Dry?" he grinned, letting his eyes wander down her body. L'rilly blushed hotly!

"SCORCH you, do you always have to disconcert me?" She asked, though her tone was not so acerbic as of old.

"Are you telling me you really want me to be serious and never tease you, pretty?" he drawled, his eyelids drooping insolently over his eyes. She sighed, exasperated.

"Oh YOU!" She said, leaning against him. He stroked her hair; then started to explore further. L'rilly did not pull away and soon things got rather carried away. T'lana sighed for the impetuosity of her friend as she picked up through Tamalenth what was going on; and made sure that none of D're's clutch mates had reason to go to their communal sleeping cavern.

oOoOo

It came to L'rilly what she could do to thank Jenara; and she spoke to Sh'rilla as Daenilth's rider as well as consulting T'lana. As L'rilly put forward the idea that someone as fond of dragons as Jenara had an excellent chance of Impression, T'lana nodded.

"I must say the idea had occurred." She said. "I'm glad you think it's a good idea too, L'rilly. How do you feel, Sh'rilla?"

Sh'rilla beamed. She was shy herself, and had taken a shine to Jenara.

"I think it would be a great idea." She said. "Should we wait on a Queen?"

T'lana shook her head.

"It'd be practice in any case." She said. "I'm not sure she'd Impress a Queen – she's so diffident. If her Queen became senior, she'd have to take control. I'm not sure she could."

"She might have reserves of command we haven't seen" argued Sh'rilla. "I'd never have thought that I could do any of the ordering of things in a Weyr – but I do, and think nothing of it anymore. Suppose she doesn't Impress a Green and it makes her more withdrawn, and she refuses to try again?"

"Then she'd not be Queenrider material anyway." Said T'lana firmly. "You have to have the determination. Courage isn't enough. You KNOW that, Sh'rilla. It's your sheer determination to live that made you Queenrider material as much as your guts and loving disposition. I think she might have been Queen rider stuff if we'd had her younger – but somewhere along the way, too many people have put her down too often. Like A'ira. She's a splendid dragonrider – but she'd HATE the scrutiny and responsibilities of riding a Queen."

Sh'rilla nodded, recognising the truth in the argument. T'lana touched her arm and L'rilly's and spoke again.

"Anyway girls," she said "We can put her to egg – and if she doesn't Impress, we'll tell her her dragon isn't ready yet, and go for next time. If that brings up a Queen, and she's learned enough confidence by then as a candidate, that's fine. If not, that's fine too. Leave it to the dragons. They know best."

Her friends nodded. It was true; dragons did not make mistakes in their partners.

oOoOo

Jenara had rather mixed feelings about being put as a candidate and made several halfhearted protests about not being worthy.

"Nonsense" T'lana told her, prosaically. "Besides, that's for the dragons to decide. Several people have mentioned you as a possible candidate, not least L'rilly. Several of the Girls have wondered about it, and you know that Green riders as well as Blue riders do have a special sensitivity about that sort of thing."

Jenara had to nod in agreement; she had heard that Green and Blue riders were sent out on search for that very reason; but she was too overcome with emotion to trust her voice. When she got some control of it back she asked,

"But – if I have weyrling duties, who'll see to your room?"

"Oh, I'll sweep up from time to time!" Said T'lana airily. "Though if you'll still bring me some flowers sometimes, I'd really appreciate it. That does make a difference."

"Of course! I'd be glad to!" agreed Jenara, glad she could still do something for the little Weyrwoman. "And I'll see if someone else will come and clean for you too!"

"That IS kind of you." Said T'lana, warmly, smiling to herself in a satisfied way that the girl was taking a responsibility onto herself and asserting herself more to do so. She knew that Jenara would work out fine as a Green rider, whatever reservations Jenara herself might have.

One of Jenara's reservations was moving in with the other female candidates. As a drudge she felt very keenly her lack of social position. Strangely – at least to Jenara – it was the Holder's daughter, Bellova who stuck up for her! Jenara had never had a great opinion of the rather spoilt girl, but it became increasingly obvious that she had been taking T'lana's lessons and example to heart when two of the new girls started taunting Jenara.

"Hey, you watch your manners!" Bellova interposed as they pointed at Jenara tittering over a drudge daring to try for Impression. "Jenara is High Reaches people – and we're family here. She's as much right to be here as you – if not more. She's been around dragons and isn't scared of them, which is more than can be said of YOU at least Merella, you coward: and she shows them proper respect too - which you could take lessons from too, Dealla."

The two girls stared open mouthed at Bellova. They were cousins and related to a minor Holder; but had already determined that Bellova outranked them socially. Dealla spoke.

"Scorch it, Bellova, what's a lady like you doing sticking up for a drudge girl? What's she got on you?"

Bellova clenched her fists, then almost laughed out loud as she suddenly and ruefully realised that she was feeling about these girls the way T'lana had felt about her at first. She said,

"There is no rank amongst weyrlings, Dealla, save that we are the lowest of the low because we know nothing. I have seniority to you because I've been here longer and learned more. If Jenara wishes to take a dive in rank down from drudge – for drudges serve a vital purpose and un-Impressed weyrlings do not – then that's her business. You needn't put on any airs; you've nothing to be proud of. You can't even do a decent day's work!" She added scornfully. Time in the Weyr had given Bellova a few calluses and the stamina to put in the arduous physical work of shifting blackrock that was expected of weyrlings. R'gar and T'lana made no concessions to the girls; mostly they were older than the boys doing the same work, and it was besides good training for the hard work of caring for dragonets. This had driven away some girls too fancy to get their hands dirty, and the weyrlingmaster grunted,

"Good riddance" to such. Bellova had stuck it out from sheer stubbornness; and the day had came when she had gone to bed without being totally exhausted, and had suddenly realised that she was contented to muck in with the others! Thus she was impatient with those who had not yet learned the lesson she had learned, not having attained the maturity to try to help them integrate. She stared down her nose at Dealla and Merella and they scowled.

"YOU may be content to betray your Blood, but WE are not." Hissed Merella. "Nothing will make either of us have anything to do with jumped up little commoners – and worse than commoners!"

Bellova compressed her lips, looking for a moment very like her mother.

"Betray your Blood? Great shells, that's melodramatic enough for a second rate harper's tale!" she said scornfully, borrowing an expression T'lana was wont to use to depress the pretensions of bumptious weyrlings. "What you should rather consider is not betraying the expectations of the dragons – far more important. Come, Jenara, these two make me want to puke!" And she led the girl away to try to regain her temper. She remarked "You'll have trouble with those two before they settle in – if they ever do."

"Er – th-thank you Bellova." Jenara did not know what to say. Bellova grinned; it made her far more attractive than her studied smile of old.

"It's nothing" She said. "I guess I need to make up for my own lack of understanding when I first came here. They'll learn – or they'll leave."

Jenara stared at her.

"You know – I really didn't think I'd ever want to get to know you" she said, blushing at her own temerity "But you – you've changed."

"For the better I hope" grinned Bellova. "It's because of the dragons. I found I didn't want to let them down by being childish. And, as T'lana pointed out, I'm better off here even if I never Impress. I can do a good day's work now, so I could always work in the lower caverns even if I don't make the grade as a dragonhealer either. And you know something? I'd be prouder of being a drudge at High Reaches than the daughter and wife of a Holder."

Impulsively, Jenara held out her hands to the girl, impressed by the sincerity in her voice; and a most unlikely friendship was sealed.

oOoOo

Bellova was not perhaps aware how lucky she was in having a father who occasionally gainsaid her, preventing her mother from doing a thorough job in spoiling her. She had a vague idea that Dealla and Merella would learn a few home truths from herself and T'lana and would learn to be as contented and happy as she had become. She had reckoned without the fact that as junior members of a ranking family they were more jealous of their pride than someone with that extra social rank; and also that they would egg each other on. She had been alone in her poor behaviour and had gradually become ashamed of the way she had been behaving; but Dealla and Merella bolstered each other's egos and ideas of how two ladies should behave. T'lana itched to bang their heads together and they found themselves frequently being disciplined, a fact they were sure was grossly unfair. They decided to blame Jenara and Bellova, whom they dubbed a sneak, for their regular disgrace, and both girls became the recipients of unpleasant tricks. Bellova, whatever faults she might retain, fully intended to fight her own battles if she could, without recourse to T'lana. Although she knew that T'lana would not countenance bullying, she also knew from what T'lana had said that bullies were best beaten by those they picked upon. She had come a long way from the day she had run whining to T'lana that her brooch had been stolen! Bellova was not however stupid; and she took Jenara firmly by the hand and went to consult with Y'lara. The seabred girl had thawed towards Bellova since the girl had asked to be put to a Green dragon, and although Bellova was rather nervous of the blunt Green rider, she had respect for her ability to sort out problems.

"It's a matter of advice" Bellova was sure to make this clear. "Rather than going to authority we thought you might tell us the best thing to do about Dealla and Merella."

"Drowning appears to me to be the best idea" growled Y'lara, never one to mince words or hide her feelings. "All right, Bellova, I'll put my mind to it. We might just fight them if they'd only been boys, but their silly weebly little girls and they'd only make a counter-plaint, whining to T'lana. And she'd have to uphold it if you had jumped them."

Bellova nodded.

"What if we caught them at it?" She asked. "They've been doing little nasty things, dowsing our beds with water, hiding possessions, putting unpleasant things at the bottom of beds, that sort of thing. Really petty and childish."

Y'lara grinned.

"And not even as imaginative as you could have been, huh?" She asked, winking as the girl flushed in discomfort. "Hey, Belle-baby" - Bellova scowled as Y'lara used her mother's childish appellation – "I'm real pleased that you're wanting to do something more adult rather than just retaliating. Yes, you're going to have to catch them at it – and make sure they know they'll ALWAYS be caught. Why don't you ask H'llon and V'gion if they'll ask their firelizards to help yours to set watch? And ask Zaira too if hers will join in. She's having some trouble too since they found out that she's a girl – calling her all sorts of names for dressing as a boy. Only Zaira, being Zaira, uses her lizards against them, as well as resorting to her own teeth!" Y'lara chuckled. The girls had complained to T'lana, who had looked at them, measured the height of Zaira against them, raised a disbelieving eyebrow and remarked that it sounded remarkably like self defence to her!

Bellova grimaced. She had made her peace with H'llon, but she still felt nervous of asking a favour of him. Y'lara suggested,

"Why don't you talk to Zaira? She'll ask H'llon if you like. She's well in with his apprentices."

Bellova flushed, knowing that she would like to take this easier path, and determining to ask H'llon herself. However, it would do no harm to form a defensive alliance with Zaira.

oOoOo

Zaira was learning to work with people instead of being a loner, though she was wary of people she did not know well; and once Bellova had outlined the trouble she and Jenara were having, she was more than willing to help. That Bellova was indignant for Jenara was as much a deciding factor as anything; for whilst Zaira had never exchanged more than a smile with the diffident girl, she thought her pleasant and was glad to get to know her. Jenara herself was a little overwhelmed by everything, and was amazed that people would want to look out for her interests. It had not occurred to her that her cheerful smile cheered up everyone around her, and that her pleasant and happy disposition led to people liking her. She only thought of the fact that she had no firelizard to add to the pool, and found herself apologising! Both Zaira and Bellova shouted her down.

"It doesn't matter who Impressed the firelizards" Zaira explained. "There's enough of them around, after all. That's what's important."

oOoOo

H'llon, approached rather hesitantly by Bellova was at first indignant at her asking to use his fair; but when the girl had explained her reasoning, he was only too happy to give orders to Sniffer, Grabber, Nibbler and Peep to keep a watch on the unpleasant girls. The plan was that a firelizard would be at all times by each of the beds of Zaira, Bellova and Jenara; and the rest would patrol around, keeping watch on Dealla and Merella. They had strict orders not to mob the girls, but to watch their every move, and report if they did anything untoward. The girls would be aware of being under scrutiny and would be foolish to try anything!

Of course, Merella tried complaining to T'lana and then R'gar, that the firelizards were spying on them; and got short shrift. Bellova realised what a wise move it was of Y'lara's to emphasise that the little creatures must not make an overt move or it would put the defensive alliance in the wrong!

oOoOo

One of the more satisfying outcomes from Bellova's point of view was that it enabled her at last to be on easy terms with H'llon. Interested in the logicating, for she was an intelligent and inquisitive girl, she had felt very uncomfortable about having much to do with the team since H'llon was a leading light within it. She persuaded Jenara to come along to the meetings with her, partly as mutual support, and partly by pointing out what a great opportunity a drudge had to deduce things from what was in people's chambers.

Jenara was actually much struck by this argument. After all, in cleaning and tidying, one actually became acquainted with quite intimate details about a person – and any false note would quickly be obvious! In fact, the girl had already been playing the game with herself for years, making up stories about the people she cleaned for using what they owned and how they arranged their possessions as clues; she had just never done it consciously. Now she was being encouraged to voice her opinions she gradually spoke up more at the meetings where T'lana gave hypothetical situations and asked for input. The enthusiasm and encouragement of the other logicators, and their acceptance of her as one of them, not putting down her suggestions, led her to a measure of increased confidence and the beginnings of a belief that maybe she WAS worthy of being a candidate after all!

oOoOo

Although the firelizards curtailed the nasty tricks of Merella and Dealla, they were limited; and the spiteful girls were cunning enough to realise it. Thus when Merella's brother came to visit, they took advantage of the limitations of the firelizards to make a suggestion to him.

It was Jenara that the girls disliked the most, perceiving their continual disgrace as starting from the day Bellova stuck up for her. Moreover, they were afraid that they would not get away with serious action against someone ranking like Bellova or someone like Zaira who appeared to be, as they saw it, smarming her way into the bed of a Bronze rider like H'llon.

oOoOo

Jenara was going about her duties happily, singing as she walked along the cavern passages to the blackrock pile, as was her custom. She wondered idly about the identity of the decorative young man who approached her; he was not a candidate she recognised, but of course he might be new. He called out, imperiously,

"Hey, you – girl!"

Jenara turned politely and answered,

"Can I help you?"

She had gained enough self-confidence not to automatically add a 'sir' until she knew whether or not he was another weyrling, but her tone was courteous enough to compromise. He grinned nastily.

"Oh yes, girl, you can. I'll not permit scum and weyrwhores to insult my sister and cousin. Let me show you your ONLY function!"

Jenara cried out in shock as he grabbed her and ripped her tunic open down the front as he pushed her to the passage floor, reaching for the fastening of her breeches. A wave of anger washed Jenara, despite her terror. If she didn't try at least to do something, how would she have the courage to fight Thread? The dragons would want her to fight back! Accordingly, she sank her teeth deep into the man's face as he leaned over her; and he screamed, swore, and tried to pull away. Jenara hung on until her jaws ached, wishing and wishing that she had a firelizard to call for, or that the dragons could hear her. Suddenly, the weight of the man was off her, and he screamed as part of his cheek ripped away in her mouth. She spat it out, staring up, her eyes wide. R'gar stood there with her assailant dangling from one strong hand; and T'lana was beside him.

"The dragons CAN hear anyone they want to!" Explained T'lana gently, as she squatted down beside the frightened girl. "And they mostly hear the people who love them. Mirrith told me there was a man hurting the singing flower girl – and I knew where your duties take you, dear one." She put her arm around Jenara's trembling shoulders, shushing her and soothing her; and Jenara leaned against her, knowing that T'lan understood, that she'd submitted to rape herself to save her friends and their dragons from armed ruffians. R'gar was already marching the young man away, dragging him before T'bor for justice, heedless of the young man's demands for medical attention, and protestations that laying one more whore was scarcely grounds for such uncouth roughness on R'gar's part. His voice was rather muffled owing to the damage to his face: but R'gar was not listening anyway.

oOoOo

Jenara never knew the full details of what had happened; T'lan and R'gar and T'bor himself protected her from the accusations of the lad and his father. T'bor indeed was furious at an attack on one of his people and in his own Weyr; and the father and son had the sharp edge of his tongue. The girls were asked to leave the Weyr forthwith together with their kinsmen and T'bor threatened to lay the entire matter before Lord Bargen, their overlord. This threat succeeded; for once Merella's father had calmed down, he realised that Bargen would take a dim view of irritating Dragonfolk, whatever one might think of some of the lowborn candidates! He left apologising; and if T'bor was not convinced by the sincerity of those apologies, he said nothing about his doubts.

Jenara meanwhile became to her surprise something of a heroine among the other female candidates; her attacker's ruined face had been seen by a large number of people. She found herself patted on the back by a wide variety of people, and even Y'lara gave her a quick hug of approval – Y'lara not being given to outward displays of emotion if it was not of a vituperative nature – and said,

"Nicely done, Jenara. That'll make prettyboy less pretty!"

Jenara lost herself in several half sentences about that not being her intention – that she'd bitten the only part she could reach; but Y'lara laughed, and declared it to all be for the best. Most of the other girls seemed to agree and Jenara could only mumble, embarrassed, that she'd done what seemed to be the right thing at the time. She always felt rather overwhelmed by Y'lara, despite the fact that the girl was five or six turns her junior!

oOoOo

Bellova of course was furious; and seemed more inclined to go along with H'llon's radical ideas that Holders and Lords Holder should be chosen on merit, not by Blood! T'bor, taken aback by this about face, just shook his head, and adjured his outspoken juniors to keep their ideas within the Weyr!


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

During the trials and tribulations of Weyr life, Segrith's last clutch of dragonets had been busy growing. D're and Sh'allen had coped the best; the former because of his maturity and life used to hardship and the latter because he had done it before. The two had become firm friends after that first shared moment of unexpected Impression; and although Sh'allen had long known that L'rilly was not for him, he understood D're's passion for her, and secretly felt that the managing ex trader would make her an excellent weyrmate – between squabbles! Sh'allen himself still found functioning around dragons difficult at times after his tragic loss; and although Warneth became a part of him, he would occasionally close off a part of his mint to the deformed little dragon as grief over the loss of Tath welled up. As the dragonet grew, he explained it.

"We are neither of us quite whole, Warneth. I know how you wish you could fly – I hear your soul cry for it. And I miss my other dragon friend. We're freaks, us; and I guess we'll just have to be extra good as ground crew to prove ourselves."

Warneth nuzzled against his beloved Sh'allen.

"_We will be able to go __**between**__ though."_ He told Sh'allen. Sh'allen knew too well to trust baby dragon wishful thinking; but he also knew enough to trust dragon instinct.

"It would surely be much harder from and to ground level," he said "If not impossible. Don't get your hopes up."

Warneth managed to look puzzled.

"_But we will have to be more precise, that's all. And I can fly up a little."_ He demonstrated, fluttering clumsily up on his truncated wings, grunting from the effort. Sh'allen hugged his neck as he landed, panting.

"Maybe" he said, dubiously. "We'll see when the time comes – if R'gar says so."

oOoOo

When Warneth was sleeping, Sh'allen went to speak to R'gar about it. R'gar listened to him and frowned in thought.

"I've noticed" he said "That dragons rarely attempt what they can't do unless egged on by foolish riders. You're one of the steadiest I've ever known; so keep your own counsel, and go by what Warneth thinks. Besides" he added, shooting a shrewd glance at the young man "I've an idea that if the two of you don't feel useful, you'd neither of you be heartbroken at the idea of being lost **between** in any case. Am I right?"

Sh'allen nodded.

"I know we can do a good job with the ground crews – but the sweep is so efficient that there's not much to do. If we could go **between** short distances as a response to trouble spots, we'd be even more use. And you're right of course – death is a much friendlier thing when you're missing so great a part of yourself. We can take risks that would be foolish for proper fighting dragons, not that I'd down-call Warneth to anybody but you and T'lan" he finished. R'gar patted his shoulder awkwardly.

"Nor should you. He's dragonkind – and he can, if he can go **between**, take a turn as watch dragon too. Or you and he can both take T'lan's offer and go live with her foster father. Warneth would be a great asset – we'd not have to worry about that rather outlying region as much, and he'd be far, far more than a watch wher to protect the runners Sarel breeds in these lawless times." He grinned at the young man's look of shock at his beloved dragon being compared to a wher; and added "Face it son, it's what some people have called him, because they fail to take his intelligence into account. And his dragon senses DO make him a good watchman."

Sh'allen nodded, mollified. He knew that R'gar would not wish to cause him offence; but he also knew that the weyrlingmaster would not hide anything from him.

oOoOo

Sh'allen had found out who his friends were in the first few weeks after Impressing Warneth; and was amazed at how many he had. He also found that no matter what might be said by those in the Weyr who disapproved of Warneth's existence, they were quick to pick up on T'bor's policy and cold shoulder outsiders who made comment. Indeed, one of the stuffier Oldtimer Brown riders who had stayed at High Reaches when T'kul left came up to him and said,

"That boy should never have broken the shell – but once Warneth was hatched, someone had to Impress him. And I'm glad you're back with us." The man held out his hand as a gesture of respect; and Sh'allen was glad to take it, even if the idea of Warneth not hatching had become unthinkable!

Of course, he had a lot of moral support from most of his old friends; and he also found support from H'llon and his harper friend L'gal and their set of seabred friends – and of course T'mon and Denth. T'mon was made so welcome that he claimed to be barely conscious of the fact that Denth was undersized; this may not have been entirely true, but certainly the pair were treated like any regular weyrlings. Anyone who did not was spoken to by H'llon; the matter never had to go as far as R'gar! H'llon had also pointed out that as Oldtimer dragons were smaller than modern dragons, who was to say that dragons of the ancient period were not of Denth's size – for in every family, children were born who resembled grandsires of generations back. T'mon appreciated the kindness he was shown by all, and was particularly proud to be treated as a friend by Sh'allen, one time Bronze rider and wingleader, and popular throughout the Weyr. They tended to form a threesome with D're, another oddity, though there was no need to be defensive; and often they were also joined by Sh'allen's brother T'ral. D're teased T'ral that as second dragonhealer he was more interested in the differences in the two brown dragons than in being friendly with their riders; an accusation that T'ral laughed at and countered by suggesting that if he knew more about the ancients he'd add to D're's mobility by sewing on dragonwings.

oOoOo

L'rilly was overjoyed that Sh'allen was able to function again; and delighted too that he was such a close friend of her lover D're. T'mon she was unsure of how to deal with; he was only a little boy after all. However, he was old beyond his years and Sh'allen and D're were glad to treat him as a favoured young brother. L'rilly tried her best to do so too – though neither was entirely comfortable with the other.

oOoOo

D're and L'rilly had been discovering more about each other; it was never going to be a placid relationship, but at least they could talk to each other without constant arguing!

L'rilly leaned on D're and sighed.

"What is it, pretty?" He asked.

"This is so satisfying". She said. "D're – I don't want to lose this. I've never been able to maintain a good relationship before – but it's so important to me to stay with you."

He kissed her.

"Sure, pretty, but you've never had me as a lover before."

"Conceited, aren't you?"

He grinned lazily down at her.

"Just realistic." He asseverated. She hit him half-heartedly and snuggled contentedly.

"D're?"

"Mm?"

"You like children, don't you?"

"Mmm."

"Had you ever considered your own?"

"My own? I don't have…" he laughed. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" he stroked her face gently.

She flushed.

"Of-of course, I might be sterile by now."

D're kissed her tenderly.

"L'rilly, I couldn't think of anything nicer. I'd love to have a baby with you. And sure, if we can't, then we'll foster someone who needs us." He winked at her "Or buy a couple of good runners!"

She had been smiling tenderly; but at the last sentence she thumped his chest with her delicate hands. He caught her wrists and kissed her fingers.

"Couldn't get too soppy, could I now?" He said. "Sure, and you'd be forgetting that I'm a rogue and a rascal!"

"You're impossible!"

"That too, pretty." He agreed equably. She heaved a deep sigh and settled back against his chest, apparently content with his defects.

oOoOo

Despite her experiences, Jenara noticed that there was little real bullying amongst the Impressed weyrlings; R'gar and T'lana kept a tight rein on any hazing, not letting it get out of hand. Besides, those chosen by dragons were supposed to be young men – and women – of exceptional honour; and if that honour slipped at times, R'gar could be guaranteed to mention its absence with scathing scorn. Any poor behaviour tended to be amongst the candidates, some of whom had been selected for their incipient power rather than their attitudes. R'gar, however, was quick to nip in the bud any bad behaviour that he saw, after giving the victims a chance to sort things out for themselves. He had been extremely pleased with the way that Bellova and Jenara had handled Dealla and Merella, and had said so. The girls had been surprised and a little indignant, to find out that he had noticed the tricks the unpleasant pair had been pulling; but he said,

"And if I had intervened straight away, would you have truly defeated them? They'd have been sure you had run to me because you needed looking after. You hope to Impress; that means you will be protectors of the people of Pern. So you need to learn to find solutions to protect yourselves first. I'm here as backup if things go too far. I was already on my way to the lower caverns because I misliked the look of that young snot when Mirrith and Laranth reported that he was hurting you. THAT was beyond what you can be expected to deal with yourself."

The girls were struck by the fact that R'gar had such a long speech to make as much as by what he said, and Bellova said,

"Thank you for explaining it to us sir. We all think about the perils and responsibilities of fighting Thread – but I certainly hadn't thought about the idea that being self-sufficient leads to being better at protecting others. And it's our job to protect people against all perils, not just Thread, isn't it?"

R'gar smile approvingly.

"Yes, Bellova, it is. I'm glad you've grasped that." He said.

"Thanks for not adding 'finally'" she said, wryly. He patted her shoulder, rather awkwardly.

"Bellova, if you can maintain a sense objectivity about you virtues and faults, you'll be a fine dragonrider." He told her; and Bellova flushed with pleasure to receive praise from the crusty weyrlingmaster.

Bellova and Jenara discussed what R'gar had told them; and Jenara suggested that the very act of being a candidate led to the decision by the dragons of who was suitable and who was not.

"R'gar introduces us to exercises that stretch our imaginations as much as our bodies" she said, "And how we react to them, and to each other, shows how we're going to get on. The leaders are starting to emerge already. Those who can keep their heads in a crisis – I guess that's something you need – are already apparent, but we are learning who can make themselves come to terms with coping."

Bellova nodded thoughtfully.

"I think you've got it." She said. "You had less to learn than I did – you already were the right material. I had to find myself underneath the rather spoilt little girl."

Jenara squeezed her friend's arm.

"You're far more likely to Impress than me" she said; and Bellova read her a lecture on foolishness, leaving Jenara grinning to herself that the girl was still QUITE capable of being opinionated at times!

oOoOo

R'gar may have enacted a policy of limited interference, but H'llon as Weyrlingsecond had no such inhibitions about wading in where he felt he saw injustice. On catching a group of three candidates trying to stuff the head of a fourth child's head down the necessary, he hauled them all outside, and said,

"Since you three are obviously bored from under-activity, you must need something to do. So you can move that pile of blackrock from there" he gestured to the pile "to THERE." He pointed to an area about a Length away. The lads, a rough bunch of seabred boys stared open-mouthed. One spoke up,

"But Bronze rider – that's make-work! Why move it at all?"

"Because I told you to." Said H'llon. "Besides, as things are at the moment it means that the direct path to the weyrling barracks is blocked; logistically it makes sense. Someone was going to have to do it; by your behaviour, I take it that YOU lucky people have volunteered."

There was a brief, injured silence; then with a deep sigh, the lad who had spoken started work. The lad they had been bullying went to join them. H'llon was about to shout to him to stop; but a feeling made him call the boy over. He was a well-dressed lad, even richly clad.

"You weren't included, you know" H'llon told him quietly. The boy shook his head.

"I know sir." He said. "But I WILL prove to them that I'm not effete. I'd as soon take part in the punishment, sir."

"You've got guts, lad" said H'llon, approvingly. "Very well, but let me know if they take things too far. Now, what's your name?"

The boy grimaced.

"Marsell, sir. Sounds a bit sissy, doesn't it?"

"I've heard worse. Besides, it'll change if you Impress, won't it?" H'llon nodded to Marsell and turned to leave them to it.

The lad brightened; and ran back to help his fellow candidates quite happily; and as H'llon watched covertly he saw that the jostling that occurred became swiftly fairly good-natured.

oOoOo

When the humming started, Bellova and Jenara were busy bagging blackrock in preparation for the next Threadfall, as part of their weyrling duties. They looked at each other in dismay as they were both rather grubby. Bellova pulled a wry face.

"Oh well, we can wash quickly!" She said, and with one accord they ran in to rinse off their grime and struggle, still wet, into their white tunics. Quickly they embraced, for luck, before scrambling – with, it is to be said, more speed than grace – onto the dragons that lifted them across the bowl to the Hatching Cavern.

Other dragons swept in, bringing guests to view the hatching. Bellova caught a glimpse of her parents and waved to them; Jenara had no expectation of seeing any of her kin. They had strongly opposed her decision to come to work at the Weyr as a drudge, on grounds that she would become the dragonmen's plaything; and the arguments had been bitter. Moreover there had been what they considered a suitable suitor to the girl's hand, a man with a small holding of his own. Jenara had liked him well enough; but he could be insufferably tedious, besides failing to understand her adoration of the dragons. He had laughed patronisingly and said that she would soon forget 'that nonsense' as the hardworking wife of a farmer; and Jenara had been horribly afraid that she might at that, especially living under the eye of his mother, a stiff-necked old woman who disapproved of frivolity. All in all, Jenara had been happier cleaning for the Weyr than she would have been as the theoretical mistress of her own establishment, under the iron thumb of such a mother-in-law; and here she was, a candidate, thought worthy by the Weyrwomen of standing on the Hatching Grounds! She could hardly believe her good fortune!

Jenara was, therefore, surprised when a figure she recognised leaned over from the tiers and gave her a 'thumbs-up' sign. It was her next oldest brother, Tobari, with whom she had quarrelled more, perhaps, than with her parents; and over whose estrangement she was the most upset since he had been her favourite sibling. However, there was little enough time for speculation, for the eggs were beginning to crack.

oOoOo

The first egg to crack was a Brown, and was soon partnered with a young weyrbred lad; then eggs started breaking all around. It seemed as though there was a disproportionate number of blues in the clutch, as indeed D're had predicted; and K'len wore a slightly sour look as his book on the outcome lost profit to D're's bets! However, this could never truly spoil K'len's enjoyment of a hatching, and he watched in emotional wonder as did all the dragonriders. He sat with T'lana and most of the old gang, egging on T'lana's fosterling Tyrin who had turned up to watch and whom they had cozened into assuming a white tunic at the last minute. Tyrin's sister Sh'rilla beamed at him from her place next to Daenilth, and he moved forward with the other lads, more reluctantly than nervously. Tyrin had had his trials and tribulations in the Harpercraft Hall, but had sorted out his problems, and wondered whether he was in the wrong place doing the wrong thing. Sh'rilla had told him that if he was, he'd not Impress; but if there was a dragonet waiting for him, nothing would stop it finding him, and begged him not to cause any more Impressions in the tiers.

The egg to Tyrin's right broke with such a loud SNICK! he started and turned towards it. In an instant he was lost in the rainbow gaze of love. Renpeth was the most beautiful dragon in the world! Bemused, like all newly Impressed, Tyrin led his new friend out of the Cavern, going to find food, scarcely hearing his foster father's traditional greeting. T'lan ran down to hug him; and he grinned all over his face.

"And he's even Harper Blue!" he exclaimed.

T'lana laughed happily. This dragonet was the bluest she had ever seen, positively glowing; and it looked as though he'd be at the higher end of the size range too, so he'd be strong. Tyrin hadn't realised yet, but that would be of great value to him as a Harper in carrying messages after the Pass as well as in fighting Thread in the meantime, T'lana reflected.

Meanwhile a little Green had hatched and was looking about her frantically. Jenara hung back diffidently.

"C'mon!" Cried Bellova, pulling Jenara forward. The little Green bellowed in distress, mistaking Bellova's intentions and charged unsteadily towards the girls. Bellova was tossed aside, bleeding, and Jenara gasped. She was about to run to her friend's aid when the dragonet tripped at her feet and looked up pleadingly into her eyes.

"Oh Rillith, what have you done?" she asked the little creature.

"_What is wrong? I have found you!"_ Rillith declared.

"Yes, darling, you have!" Lost in her partner's regard, Jenara could scarcely think of anything else but how utterly right and important is was that Rillith had found her. She hugged the little creature protectively. However, she knew that she had to find out how Bellova was before she could see to her darling's need for food. No one could possibly blame Rillith for hurting Bellova, but Jenara did not want the little Green to feel any regret if they did not do all they could. She turned around to see Bellova lying on the ground, blood soaking into the sand, her little blue fire lizard peeping his distress. Calla was already on her way down the tiers, consternation writ across her face. Accidents were so uncommon these days that for a dragonet to hurt someone was virtually unknown. Up on the tiers, Bellova's mother was screaming, her father white faced with fear as they followed the Weyrhealer down.

Bellova lay still, trying to catch her breath. Rillith's claw had raked across her chest as the small dragon had thrust her aside. Bellova found time to reflect that at least she had not been a Queen – or the results might have been fatal! As it was, Bellova was in pain and winded but she did not think it was mortally. Firmly the girl bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself crying out with the pain, not wanting to upset her friend in her moment of joy. She did gasp, however, when she was butted in the back, causing a fresh flow of blood to spurt from her damaged breast as she was knocked forward. She turned her head to face whatever new threat this might be – and found herself lost in joy as Linith asked,

"_B'lova, are you all right?"_

"_**Oh yes, I am, sweet one!"**_ Bellova – B'lova – assured the worried Green, unaware that tears of pain and joy both coursed down her cheeks. Blue Trel, her firelizard, was humming, happily now. At that moment Calla reached her.

"Right, Bel – er, B'lova, let's be seeing that" her tone was matter of fact.

"I'll be fine" B'lova sounded irritable. Calla laughed.

"Typical sharding dragonrider." She said. "Yes, it looks worse than it really is – nothing vital, but there's a largish artery that's been opened. I need to staunch the blood before it does get serious." Expertly she bound pads from her pack to the injured girl and helped her to her feet. At that moment, B'lova's parents arrived.

"That's it!" exclaimed the girl's mother. "You're coming back home RIGHT NOW!"

B'lova looked at her mother in amazement.

"Don't be ridiculous, mother." She said.

"Ridiculous? RIDICULOUS? I never wanted you to come to this dreadful place in the first place, and now I ORDER you to come home!"

B'lova looked for a moment at her mother; and realised that only by shocking her would she get her to listen.

"Madam, commons do not order dragonriders to do anything. A dragonrider and his or her dragon belongs in a Weyr. You cannot do anything about it anymore."

"What are you talking about? You're coming home! I forbid you to keep this creature! They're dangerous! And I want that other one put down!"

B'lova gasped, and Trel hissed threateningly from Linith's head.

"Father – take her away and try to explain to her what she's saying!" She managed. "I will not be held responsible if she continues in this way!"

B'lova's father was looking almost as horrified as his daughter, and he nodded. Taking his wife's arm he led her off, not without some difficulty, in the hopes of getting her out of earshot before she mortally offended the dragonfolk! For the first time in his henpecked marriage he took the remedy for hysteria of striking his lady across the face, and shook her gently until she started to cry. He knew he had a lot of work to do to calm her down; but he desperately hoped to make peace between her and the daughter they both loved.

oOoOo

When Calla had finished with B'lova, she led Linith towards J'nara and Rillith. Gingerly J'nara embraced B'lova, apologising for Rillith's mistake. B'lova shrugged, then winced.

"She loves you. What should she care about me? We all know that hatchlings can be a danger to others. It's Life!"

J'nara beamed at her friend, rather mistily. Rillith truly did love her, as no one else could love her; she would never be lonely and would always have a champion in her dear friend!


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Tobari joined J'nara as she fed little Rillith; he had come over with L'rilly who secured R'gar's permission. J'nara grinned at him, the exhilaration of her Impression written all over her face.

"Oh, Tobari, how lovely to see you!" she said. He embraced her self-consciously, thumping her on the back to express his feelings.

"My kid sister's a dragonrider!" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I guess you were right after all to come. Unless they've been forcing attentions on you. Your face is bruised." he added accusingly. J'nara hugged him back.

"The only person who tried to force attentions on me was a Holder snot" she told him, not noticing his raised eyebrow at her disrespectful description. J'nara had come on a long way in the last few weeks! She added, "R'gar – the Weyrlingmaster – rescued me before anything could happen. They have a nice attitude here towards having autonomy over your own body. Not like in the holds where you're often pressured into marrying someone suitable. Of course, if you're dragon's involved it's a little different, but you can usually make sure you have some say, by influencing your dragon. And I'm told it's pleasurable at the time anyway because you're mindlocked with her choice."

Tobari looked surprised at her explanation of Weyr attitudes, and slightly sceptical.

"And you've been happy?"

"Oh yes, I'd have been happy being a drudge here for the rest of my life. But now – oh, Tobari, I didn't realise it was possible to be so deliriously ecstatic!"

Her face told him everything he needed to know, and he held her close.

"Forgive me for shouting sis" he said. "I was so scared that you'd get hurt. You were too young, I suppose, to know what happened to Jeneela."

"Who?" She asked, blankly.

"Don't you know our own sister?"

She shook her head, bewildered. He shut his eyes in remembered grief.

"I suppose I don't remember her that well, but she used to play with me… you look rather like her. I didn't know what had happened at first, but when you were set on going off to the Weyr, our parents told me. They told me to say nothing to you as you're a girl" - gentle J'nara actually snorted! – "But I guess I'll disobey. She was raped by a dragonman, and killed herself."

J'nara stared at him.

"But that was surely under T'kul – no-one with any sense could believe such a thing of T'bor's people!" She cried, indignantly.

He scowled.

"All right, I over-reacted. I admit it – but none of us knew anything about dragonmen. What had they to do with commons?"

J'nara reflected that trying to explain that trusting one's instincts would be of little use, and contented herself with patting his arm; then she took him to meet her friend B'lova. Tobari was inclined to be a little awed by B'lova's evident social rank – he had seen the clothes her family wore – but the girl soon put him at his ease, telling him the amusing story of how she and J'nara had been caught dirty when the summons to hatching came.

"So panicking we fell into the bathing pool and I swear we must have grown temporary wings to get out so quick!" She laughed. "I'll bet these tunics never got used as a drying cloth before!"

Tobari managed a chuckle.

"How did you know I was a candidate?" J'nara finally put the question that had been troubling her. Tobari smiled dryly.

"We had the most tremendous honour accorded us." He told her. "Weyrwoman L'rilly came and asked if any of us wanted to come. Our parents….declined. I, however, accepted. I felt that if a Queenrider felt you worth while enough to seek out your family it would be churlish not to. Besides, I missed you."

J'nara had tears in her eyes.

"She has been so good to me" she murmured. "I'm sorry mother and father can't forgive me. Will it cause problems for you?"

Tobari shrugged.

"Maybe. But I bring in good wages."

"If there are any problems, you can always come here. High Reaches welcomes everybody, and we've not got a skilled glassworker."

"I'll think about it" he said, genuinely interested. "I'll go back anyway, to tell them how you are – and how things are here. I'm sure they'll be more…flexible when they know the truth."

J'nara wondered; but she kept her thoughts to herself. Her parents were die-hard people of conservative mind-set and were slow to take on board new ideas once they had made up their minds.

oOoOo

T'lana and L'rilly were puzzled that Geriana had still not Impressed. The girl had become a feature of the Weyr, its semi-official Weyrartist and the girls had always conspired to make sure that she had her easel set up on the hatching grounds. Since the girl was regularly spoken to by dragons, even having been given the nickname 'Geri' by them it seemed certain that she ought to Impress. Geri herself was unaware of this, and kept meaning to return to her hideaway in the mountains. There were plenty of volunteers to help her maintain the vegetable garden there. It was also used, with her permission, as a base for proddy Greens and their riders and mates, to make sure of the selection of a partner where the rider was unsure that his chosen lover would ride the winning dragon. T'bor tutted a little, but it did reduce friction within the Weyr and that had to be good. Geri was a romantic at heart, and was always happy to help out lovers! She had not, herself, formed any particular relationship, though she did not discourage romantic attentions from the Weyr's young men. She had a happy nature, and was unshaken in her belief that the right man would come along some time! T'lana hoped that the same would be true of the right dragon, but Pilgra had her doubts.

"Don't you see, T'lan" she said "That her art comes first with her – she'd never be prepared to put her mind to being a dragonrider. She wouldn't fight Thread – she'd DRAW it!"

T'lana laughed, and had to admit the truth in the little Weyrwoman's words. Geriana had plenty of courage; but at least part of her apparent courage was an interest in everything that made her ignore fear! Pilgra pointed this out and added,

"It's the same with Masterharper Robinton, and to a lesser extent Menolly. The dragons adore Robinton – but music is so much a part of him that he couldn't give part of himself to a dragon."

"How strange that anyone should feel that way!" marvelled T'lana. "What about T'rin?"

"T'rin does music – it is a part of him, but he doesn't breathe it and live by it. If he had, how could he have looked after Sh'rilla as well as he did before you found them?"

T'lana pondered.

"I see what you mean" she said. "Genius requires a certain amount of selfishness. To be a dragonrider you have to suborn yourself to your dragon – and the needs of Pern. I'm glad our T'rin's not a genius!"

Pilgra laughed.

"You never did learn tact, did you, dear?" she chuckled.

"I learned my tact from you, dear one" retorted T'lana.

"Point conceded" Pilgra admitted ruefully.

oOoOo

Meanwhile, Holder Marlov of River Bend had mostly succeeded in calming down his wife, Bellanda. He explained carefully to her that it was impossible to un-Impress, that riders separated from their dragons by death frequently went insane; and that that was the only way to take their daughter's dragon from her. He patiently pointed out that it would be unthinkable to even think about killing a hatchling – and that if she seriously suggested this, there would be dragonriders who would consider more readily the idea of killing her! At last, Bellanda admitted that she had been overwrought and conceded that she had not really meant what she had said.

"I know" her husband stroked her hair. "You were so worried about Belle. Just think, dear, if half the stories are true, she'll never have to worry again, for her dragon will take care of her. That's a heavyweight partisan to have, isn't it?"

Bellanda managed half a smile, and admitted that she supposed so; and Marlov took her to find B'lova so they could clear the air.

oOoOo

B'lova was not sure that she was overjoyed to see her parents. Little Linith stood in front of her, wings spread threateningly with Trel on her head.

"_If she tries to hurt you I will be very cross!"_ the dragon baby declared. B'lova put an arm around her shoulder.

"They won't hurt me – or you." She said, hoping that it was the truth. Shards, had she once been as volatile as her mother? How embarrassing!

Marlov said,

"You see, my dear, how the little dragon protects her already?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, Belle-baby. I'm glad the sweet little thing is going to protect you" Bellanda was genuinely contrite at her outburst and truly glad for her daughter when she saw the joy on her face chasing away what little pain was not dulled by numbweed. "But why did that other dragon hurt you so? It's not right!"

B'lova gritted her teeth and took the pet name without a murmur, and patiently explained to her mother how brave Rillith had been being to – as she thought – protect J'nara.

"For" as B'lova said, "How could she know what dear friends we are?" she insisted on introducing her parents to J'nara and Rillith. Poor J'nara was quite tongue-tied, but B'lova was well able to fill any conversational gaps!

Eventually B'lova's parents returned to River Bend satisfied that their daughter was contented, and the girl heaved a sigh of relief.

"At least they care what happens to you." Reproached J'nara.

"I know. And I do love them both – but I don't feel anymore that I've a lot in common with them. Especially Mother" B'lova sighed regretfully.

"I suppose I never had a lot in common with my parents" admitted J'nara. "I was always in trouble for having too much imagination, and making up stories about people I'd see rather like I do – did – about the rooms I cleaned. They called them lies. I didn't mean to lie – and I'd not pass on what I fancied like gossip" she paused, remembering her hurt at this criticism. "And of course I've always loved dragons. I used to even make up stories about weyrfolk. I always thought it would be so wonderful just to live in a Weyr and be near wonderful, wonderful dragons. If one of T'kul's people made my sister kill herself I can understand better my parents' extremely virulent reaction to my desire to come here; but I'm sure they would have disapproved anyway. You sometimes laugh at me for being practical; but I spent most of my childhood in trouble for being too frivolous and not sufficiently down to earth!"

B'lova put her arm around her.

"But they'd not have tried to dissuade you if they didn't love you" she said. "They must have cared what happened to you. I wonder if they didn't come because they'd have to admit you were right? After all, parents don't like to be wrong when their children are right."

J'nara smiled a little.

"You sound like T'lana, the incurably cheerful. Or Geriana" she said.

"But I might be right."

"We'll see what my brother has to say" said J'nara. "Perhaps they'll unbend. We can never, I think, be close, but I'd like to feel that they don't think badly of me. I know they've been living under the impression that I've been nothing but a loving-wench, because when my father makes up his mind, he doesn't want to be confused with the facts. And he whipped me for my little fantasies." She added scornfully. Then she laughed. "Well I'm happy; and I don't think mother and father know how to be. Life is so full of worrying about not offending the wrong people for them. If our social position had been higher I could understand it – but we couldn't fall much lower! He's a farmworker. It's my brother who made it to Journeyman Glasscrafter – and he belongs to his crafthall for protection."

B'lova encouraged her friend to talk. She had little idea of the lives of ordinary people – though J'nara claimed that she was convinced that most ordinary people were less hidebound than her family. B'lova wondered about this. Few of the candidates came from farming background, unless their families were small holders in their own right, and those that did were usually outspoken against hidebound attitudes. A lack of imagination was certainly a bar to Impression, and candidates were not usually drawn from those who could not accept new ideas. In return she told J'nara stories of her own pampered upbringing, trying to make it as funny as possible, and telling her a highly embroidered tale of her infatuation for the head groom and his desperate attempts to escape from her!

oOoOo

Z'kan patted his daughter sympathetically on the shoulder as she left the hatching ground disappointed. He was not surprised; frankly he fully expected her to Impress a Queen when one was available. Her grandmother had been a Queenrider, and her attitude was, he felt, of the best; even allowing for a certain partiality on his part. Zaira herself was philosophical; she knew that she was rather on the young side for a female candidate. Of course, T'lan had been a little younger, but Zaira knew T'lana well enough now to realise that she was very much one of a kind. Besides, Zaira was actually hoping that there was a Golden egg waiting for her some time; she had plans for H'llon as part of her future and she suspected that it might take Melth's participation to induce him to abandon his customary reserve where romance was concerned.

oOoOo

H'llon was entirely unaware of being part of Zaira's deliberations; he was more interested at the moment in helping R'gar to get the new weyrlings sorted out with well-fed dragonets. He had just started flying **between **and knew that soon he would be part of a Fighting Wing with his friends V'gion and L'gal, and would not be helping R'gar out any more. Faioth and Solpeth were well grown like Melth, smaller than Benden bronzes like all of Mirrith's offspring, but hardy and fast. They worked well in formation together, and had attained something of a reputation of efficiency in their duties of carrying blackrock to the riders on sweep. In fact, R'gar had said that he believed they had even out-performed T'lana's group when the duty had been theirs; and H'llon had glowed with pride. He was proud of his strength, although he knew that tossing the heavy sacks from one rider to another needed as much knack as strength of arm; but he was able to throw the sacks further and thus return more rapidly for a second load. V'gion of course was used to tossing cargo from ship to shore; and L'gal had worked hard to learn the knack and maintain the reputation of the group. Like H'llon they were looking forward to being invited to join a grown rider as his wingman to train for real against Thread.

oOoOo

It was H'llon, asking A'ira for aid with sorting out the two female weyrlings, who got an unaccustomed burst of grumpiness from the Green rider. H'llon blinked in surprise, and A'ira looked contrite.

"I'm sorry, H'llon, I don't know what came over me" she apologised. H'llon blushed.

"I do." He almost blurted out. "Say, why don't you and R'cal ask Geri if you can use her Weyrlet?"

A'ira stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment; then blushed as fierily as he. She muttered something that included a word of thanks, and rushed off to find her weyrmate. H'llon reflected that it would not be long before Melth started to take an interest in Queen flights, and fervently hoped he'd not catch any. A'ira was a clutch mate of his, and although Greens tended to mature early it was a sign that all their dragons were growing up. H'llon had a lively alarm at the thought of the loss of control that draconic appetites implied. Of course, if there was a Queen rider he liked well enough… it was just that he was in awe of Pilgra, and looked upon the other three Queenriders rather in terms of favourite sisters. Besides, it would be Unthinkable; all of them had established mates whom he had no desire to oust during a flight (even were Melth capable) and of course to fly Pilgra would be quite ridiculous as he had no desire to be in T'bor's place! H'llon was reassured by reflecting that rider – and dragon –choice had as much to do with such things as the size and strength of the dragons, which was just as well. Melth might not be as large as most Benden bronzes, but he had not attained his full growth yet, and was bidding fair to come close. Of course with Laranth as a sire, it would not be surprising for Melth to be big and strong, but that could have its drawbacks!

oOoOo

Z'linda was also concerned; she had Impressed Zith at the same time that A'ira had Impressed Joroth but unlike the young widow had not made any intimate bonds. She talked about it to her cousin T'lana.

"Well," said T'lana, "It boils down to whether you're a virgin or not, doesn't it?"

Z'linda flushed.

"What sort of question is that to ask?" She said, indignantly. Her hair was not as red as T'lana's; but her dragon's nubile state was having an effect upon her temperament.

"A very personal, but relevant one." Retorted T'lana. "Shards, girl, we are cousins – and fellow weyrwomen. If you've never experienced any man at all, it could be scary, and I'll need to get very earthy with you to explain what to do so you don't accidentally hurt yourself." She grinned. "Poor R'gar has to have this sort of talk with the boys, Blue and Green riders, to enable them to find ways to either cope or, er, avoid too much physical contact if they're really inhibited. Fortunately most Greens Impress to boys who have homosexual tendencies, but the first few times, really they're often too young for a full scale encounter and have to take themselves away to prevent themselves from being badly hurt. There are ways around going the whole way, of course, like having clothing too tough to tear and too complex in fastening to remove until the worst of the dragonlust is dissipated. It truly is dangerous for really little boys – as they can be – to get too physically involved. You could take the same options; but you'll have a limited time of fertility and I suggest that sooner or later you're going to want to think about breeding the next generation. Our kin seem good material and it seems a shame not to have babies off other riders to enhance that."

Z'linda stared open mouthed. She had never considered the implications to her male clutch mates; and some of them were scarcely thirteen turns yet.

"I'd rather have babies with someone I'd formed an attachment for" she snapped. She had not meant to snap; but it came out that way. T'lana was patient. She'd helped some of the lads through this before, the ones who'd not recovered from being nervous of R'gar.

"Of course, dear one." She said. "But you might find that in the flight you cared for someone more than you realised. Now, answer me my question – are you sexually experienced; and is there any rider you quite get on with who might help out?"

"I did have an affair right when I first came here" Z'linda admitted, "But I didn't really enjoy it much. It was because I could, you see – and he was handsome. But he was a real 'I am', and he really seemed to feel that he was doing me a favour. So I told him to go **between**. It wasn't very nice." She shrugged. "Then there was that ill-fated picnic, and I guess that all in all I went off men rather. I get on fine with most of my clutchmates but I'm not sure I'd like to wake up next to any of them."

"Well apart from Bedemath's rider - I am correct in recognising the man, aren't I?" - Z'linda nodded, chagrined as her cousin continued, "Is there any rider you DISlike?"

Z'linda shrugged.

"I scarcely know most of the older riders" she said. You and R'gar keep our noses too well to the grindstone for us to have much social contact."

T'lana chuckled.

"We like to keep the weyrlings busy" she admitted blandly. "Besides, it'll save your life when you join the Female wing in a month or two. If you know what you're doing and have no dislikes, it might be as well to just take pot luck and leave it to Zith. Her feelings will make sure that it's good for you during; and after, she'll only remember what you encourage her to remember. Pilgra always used to say, just enjoy the feeling. The dragons are right, and the man's only an adjunct for your pleasure, like bubbly pies."

Z'linda roared with laughter.

"Trust Pilgra to bring food into it somewhere!" she chuckled. She felt somewhat reassured by T'lana's advice; and if she envied her cousin for having formed an attachment to R'gar before Mirrith flew, she could at least hope to have the luck to find a weyrmate herself at some point. After all, it had taken L'rilly years, but now she seemed euphoric with D're. Between shouting at him, that was! She did take on board T'lana's implied suggestion that it was her duty to provide new blood for the Weyr; after all, the Weyr had given her so much, not least Zith! However, she hoped to wait a while at least, especially if she did find someone special – although she had every intention of going along with the custom of having her children fostered. She did not feel as maternal as T'lana and A'ira who accepted help but by no means surrendered the responsibilities for their children.

oOoOo

Meanwhile A'ira had taken H'llon's advice to remove with R'cal and Camnath to a secluded spot. Although Camnath had had a long warm summer to keep his aches at a minimum, and R'cal had in any case been rubbing him with fish oil as a prophylactic against joint-ail, there seemed no point in risking some younger Blue or a Brown stealing a march on him. They did not go to Geriana's Weyrlet, however; R'cal took his beloved to the Island site he had discovered with its oval cone and lush plain running to the sea below. R'cal had visions of establishing a new Weyr here one day, after the Pass, where riders could be self sufficient in farming the rich volcanic soil, independent of doubtless ungrateful Holderfolk. On due consideration, he picked several young Blue riders of A'ira's clutch to accompany them, to give their dragons the practice, and Joroth the fun of several suitors. He was confident that Camnath could out-fly any smokeless weyrlings!

oOoOo

When Joroth rose, after blooding several wild wherries, she took off with a rush to confuse her suitors, as Mirrith was wont to do. She screamed her defiance to them all, and with a provocative flip of her tail across Camnath's face, was airborne.

Camnath had always been noted for his calmness and good sense, not always attributes of the smaller dragons, and he refused to let Joroth flap him into an ill-considered move. He watched, waited, and with impeccable timing swooped to wrap his neck and tail round hers and bring her away to their temporary weyr. R'cal laughed deep in his throat as he bore A'ira in to their makeshift couch.

"So who says he's a silly old fool!" he whooped.

A'ira had never thought either of them to be silly old fools; and she showed her love just how much she appreciated him as the four were joined in shared joy.


End file.
